Passing Strange
by LittlePorcelainDoll
Summary: A series of stand alone one-shots and missing moments featuring a variety of characters in no particular order or time. Expect a buffet of pairings for kicks and giggles. Updated - twelfth chapter finally updated. Features Captain Scarlett and ... Shade?
1. Axton & Maya

**Title:** Passing Strange  
**Summary:** A series of stand alone one-shots and missing moments featuring a variety of characters in no particular order or time. Expect a buffet of pairings for kicks and giggles.  
**Rating:** T (might change in future chapters)  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own squat.  
**Warning(s)****:** Use of alcohol, cursing, and (a large amount of) suggestive themes.  
**Pairing(s)/Character(s):** Maya/Axton all in Maya's point of view and enough crack pairings mentioned to maybe hate me a little.  
**Setting****: **BL2 with some spoilers. Takes place after Bloodwing's death, but before reaching the Bunker.  
**Notes:** After a helluva long hiatus, I'm back people! I've been offline for **MONTHS **since my laptop blew up on me and I've finally gotten a new one. Anyway, I'll get back to my other unfinished stuff as soon as I can recover it all, but for now... here's this. I've fallen in love with this game all over again while I've been offline with nothing better to do and decided to cave in and write random shit about it. As always … love it, flame it, I don't mind. Enjoy.

* * *

The tables were nearly empty and the ice in Maya's glass has all but melted by the time Axton slides into the seat across from her with two fresh drinks.

"You took your time," she says by way of greeting and doesn't spare him a second glance, afraid that he might see the way her doubts melted away at the sight of him. For the past hour she was sure he was going to skip their nightly drink together.

She's not sure how it started at first. Their first few hectic days since the train crash were fuzzy at best. Little talking amongst themselves other than the unanimous agreement to carve Handsome Jack a new face for what he's done to them. Surviving wave after wave of the worst Pandora has to offer them. Following a stranger's voice that promised them answers and retribution. Treasure and fame. The fact that they're liberating the oppressed people of Sanctuary and many others along the way was just an added bonus. They all had their own reasons for being here after all.

Walking into Sanctuary offered them a sense of normalcy, however small, from the hell they endured so far. Time to heal, time to get a some answers, gather themselves and plan. And... relax in the few moments in between. Maya had sat in this very booth the first night with this very same drink and for the first time, she missed the soft and warm wines of the Abbey. Berry sweet on the tongue and a fragrance so strong, it'd last for hours like a song that you just can't get out of your head for days. If the Brothers did anything right, it was wine. Rakk ale was bitter and harsh like everything on Pandora and it does the job but it was hard to get used to the taste. As she choked down her ale, Axton had joined her that night and like some unspoken agreement between them, every night since then.

Their meetings weren't dates. They weren't Roland's planning sessions. They didn't even talk much about themselves. They just talked about whatever random thing came to mind. How awful so and so's aim was at the dart board. Whether or not Hammerlock came out of the womb with such a fine moustache or if it was even real at all. How much they've lost gambling and if Moxxi would notice if one of them blew the slot machine sky high. They just... existed. Existed in a world where they had no right to exist. Each keeping their own secrets and reasons to themselves. And if Maya blushes sometimes when he calls her 'sweetheart' and if she's grown more used to his company than she should because nothing was certain in this world, that's alright too.

"Couldn't get away from Sal fast enough," he says and stretches out fully on his side of the booth. Axton doesn't just casually sit; he owns the booth. One dusty boot on the stained cushion; arm thrown over the back of his seat. She's surprised he hasn't kicked his shoes off yet. "Sal's got himself a new toy and we just had to go test it out at the shooting range. Guy stuff, y'know," he finishes with a wink.

"Who am I to get in the way of a budding romance?" Maya teases into the brim of her fresh glass and tries not to inhale the strong spirits. "By all means, go do guy stuff and shoot things."

"_C'mon,_" he rolls his eyes at her with his trademark boyish grin and she should think it's childish but this was _Axton_ and Axton could roll his eyes at the world, and the world would fall to its knees and apologize for presuming him to be an idiot. "My nights are all for you darlin', we both know that."

Maya tries not to smile and maybe it worked because Axton doesn't comment about how obviously this pleased her. "So... I think it's your turn tonight?"

"Oh, we're still playing that?" He chuckles softly. "Didn't think the nun in you would really get into it."

"I wasn't a nun," Maya insists at his long standing joke ever since she accidentally mentioned living in the Abbey.

"You were a _little_ bit of a nun," he teases as he fishes into his glass for an ice cube to suck, a habit of his she's noticed over their many nights drinking together and she wrinkles her nose, slightly annoyed at the jibe.

Utilizing a small surge of her power, Maya phaselocks the ice cube and chucks it into the far corner of the room. "I was a _goddess_, and yes, I'd like to play again."

"Whatever you say. Let's play."

And by play, it's not the usual game of "I've Never" or any other kind of drinking game like that. Not Truth or Dare because they aren't children and like Maya had mentioned once, she had no intention on doing gross things on a dare. Moxxi's bar wasn't exactly hygienic. Instead, they made their own game almost by accident.

It had started with some innocent passing comment about Mordecai's brief fling with Moxxi they had learned while listening to them both argue over their ECHO's the other day. The whole thing about plucking feathers and Moxxi's own tidbit about ending up with Handsome Jack himself and how life has a funny way of throwing curve-balls like that. At length, the conversation had turned into nothing but gossip. Lilith and Roland. Scooter's passing strange love interests. What exactly Crazy Earl gets up to in that hostel and why no one's ever seen entering or leaving. And after a few more drinks each... things turned even stranger still. And so, they made a game of it. Each takes a turn to think up the strangest pairing and the other has to come up with how it would happen. Sure, it was immature and outrageous most of the time, but it kills time and Maya got a kick out of it. It's not like they've got any other form of entertainment going on in Sanctuary.

"The same rules apply," she barely manages to say while she worked her throat against the slow burn of the liquor sliding its way down as she took her first sip. "I've worked up a good one sitting around and waiting for you to show up."

Axton downs half his drink in one go, like a man steeling himself for death, and smirks. "Hit me with your worst."

"Scooter..." Maya pauses here for dramatic effect and lets it sink in. "... and _Claptrap_."

"Shit," Axton says after a moment of stunned silence. "That ain't fair! Claptrap ain't human."

Prepared for this argument, Maya shakes her finger at this and laughs. "Nope! They're _your_ rules. Anyone's fair game. That includes Claptrap."

Axton frowns at her satisfied smile and sucks his teeth in defeat. "Alright, alright..." He sits up straighter in his seat and swirls his drink around to buy time. After a few moments, he leans across the table with a wicked lopsided grin and Maya worried briefly, if she really wanted to hear this or not.

"This is how it'll go," he begins, voice dropping an octave lower. "Claptrap, being the bullet magnet he is, suddenly springs a leak so he rolls his sorry self down to Scooter's garage to get repaired. And Scooter, being the lonely creeper that he'll always be, thinks it's such a waste to get rid of such good oil," Axton chuckles here and she can only imagine what he's thinking next. "And how nice Claptrap looks from the inside, a mechanic's wet dream. So, he decides to work his game on the noisy little thing. Maybe strike a few poses. Shirtless and covered in oil 'cause chicks dig that stuff, right? And Claptrap, he –"

"Stop! No more!" Maya's voice breaks, trying to keep from laughing and gagging a little at the same time. "You won that round when I pictured Scooter shirtless. Guh!"

"Alright, don't say I ain't merciful," he chuckles, smug as you please and Maya thinks she likes him best like this. Confident and charming... or maybe she's drunk too much too quickly and it's just the rakk ale hitting her harder than expected. "Best get ready for mine 'cause I'm paying you back now."

Maya gives him her best game face and tries to ignore her random thoughts. "I'm ready."

"Brick and Salvador," Axton says without hesitation, and she smiles. Maya's thought ahead for this one too.

"This is how it would go," she begins. "It starts off as a bromance at first. Like attracting like. Both reveling in bloodshed and action. Both oh so obviously appreciative of the sculpted body... And so, they have a friendly competition to show off their various muscular... _assets_," and here the table gives a small thump as Axton put his head down onto the table, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. Or maybe he could be nauseous. "Are you paying attention?" Maya flicks his ear.

"I don't want to," he says with a short bark of laughter.

"Shush you, I'm not at the good part yet," she says and manages to chug down some of her drink with a grimace. "But as soon as their lips meet for the first time – Sal standing on a very high chair with several ECHO directory books of course – they create a paradox. The unstoppable force coming together with the immoveable object and all of Pandora implodes with the force of their combined badassery."

"Wow... just... wow," Axton says in awe and she laughs. "Strangely, that makes a lotta sense."

"Of course," she grins, now her turn to be smug. "I think I topped you with the whole apocalypse theory."

"Y'think?" He shakes his head with a soft chuckle. "This is gonna make for a whole lot of awkward eye contact with them in the morning, y'know."

"Good," Maya smirks. "That'll teach you to keep me waiting tomorrow night."

"Yes ma'am," Axton shifts back in his seat with a grin, eyes focused on hers and starts idly tracing circles onto the tabletop where the condensation gathered from his glass. "Hey, tell me something..."

"Hmm."

"Where in the rules does it say _we're_ not in the game?"

Maya drops his gaze and instead follows the movements of his fingers and tries not to meet his eyes again; afraid of what she might find there. "What do you mean?"

"Me and you," he says, and she loves the things his voice does to her with those three simple words. He's as serious as she's ever heard him and his voice is smooth and smokey like the whisper of that far off wine she'll never forget.

Maya bites her lip, suddenly not sure if she wants to go there with him and yet just as curious to see where this might lead. "It's not your turn," she says at last.

"I made the rules so I can change 'em," he says finally. "This is how it might go. We could sit here for a spell and wonder how the hell they're so many midgets on this planet... or I can get the bill, meet ya outside and we can take the long way back to HQ and maybe get lost for a bit."

Maya's stomach is churning like snakes and a rolling heat settled there she's not altogether sure she can blame the liquor for. "Go on," she hears herself say, surprised she could manage to say anything at all with the nervous heat slowly creeping its way up into her cheeks. "We'll get lost... and then what?"

"Then I'll tell ya all the things I've wanted to do to ya," he continues, voice low and husky with a small smile playing around his lips. "How I've wanted to lay you down on this table and worship the goddess you _still_ are inch by inch and find out how far down those markings go. And maybe, if you haven't slapped the hell outta me by then, I'll do just that and we'll stay lost somewhere till mornin'."

A long moment of silence stretched between them then and the whole room which had been quiet up until that point, seemed noisy in comparison. The soft chink of glasses behind the counter as Moxxi polished them. The low murmur of the few regulars still hanging around at the bar. The enticing little musical number the slot machine gives out every so often, and Maya can't breathe. Her mind is running through a million different scenarios and she's not sure how sincere he is. And she doesn't expect him to be. She's not a child anymore to buy into sweet talk and flattery. But who knows... this could be a good thing. Maybe all he'll ever be is an occasional lover and maybe she'll start to get used to that too. Living in Pandora where nothing is certain, maybe that'll be enough for her.

"I'll meet you outside," she says.

* * *

Notes: Thanks for reading! Might update this with another one-shot by next Tuesday. Maybe.


	2. Zer0 & Moxxi

**Rating:** T  
**Warning(s):** Mentions of alcohol, one curse word and suggestive themes  
**Character(s)/Pairing(s):** Moxxi/Zer0. All in Moxxi's point of view.  
**Setting:** BL2 Sanctuary. Any time during the main storyline. Just a tiny spoiler.  
**Notes: **After reading a review curious about having a Zer0 and Moxxi one-shot, I couldn't get the thought of them out of my head. Sure they don't seem to have anything in common other than violence and killing... but hell. I'm confident I can make any pairing work. They're like puzzle pieces – if they don't fit, you freaking superglue the shit. It's a little bit shorter than my last chapter, but I think I like how this turned out anyway. Love it, flame it – I don't mind. Enjoy.

* * *

There was something about the way he sat so still that just got to her. Burrowed under her skin, sinking in deeper with every passing glance. His head was tilted just slightly in her direction and she's not sure if he's looking at her or through her instead.

For the past three nights or so, the quietest of the Vault Hunters has been visiting her bar and has never said more than a few words to her. He takes a seat in same booth every time, always around the slow hours, orders a drink and leaves just as quietly come closing time. The last one out the door; drink untouched. Normally, she wouldn't have spared him a second thought. With all the commotion always going on in the Crimson Raiders Headquarters, perhaps this is as close to privacy the assassin could get and he uses this time to relax. But Zer0, isn't any kind of normal.

Moxxi isn't the kind to get bothered about getting attention. Or the way men look at her. She's used to being watched. Admired. _Wanted_. In fact, she likes it. The quick glance of shaded eyes from across the room that promise all kinds of incoherently filthy things whispered against her skin. The way eyes linger and slowly travel down her body and watching the lust play across a man's face; watching them try to hide it. She's tried to remember feeling that same pull of attraction long ago, and stopped. It's gotten to the point where she's so numb to it all she wonders if it's even worth the time anymore.

But when he sits there with his _not-quite_ way of looking at her... Moxxi's blood runs just a little bit faster and reminds her she hasn't forgotten what it feels like to lust after all.

Maybe it's because she can't see his face.

He sat slumped back in his seat just a little, legs spread, the most relaxed she's ever seen him. One arm at his side, the other on the table and loosely wrapped around a bottle of ale she hasn't caught him take a sip from since the moment she left it there. Clearly, Zer0 isn't here to drink, she muses. A passing customer bids for Moxxi's attention and she tears her eyes away from the assassin. She smiles, sweet as molasses, and flirts and laughs and leans over the counter and the whole time, the more it burrowed into her. His _look._ It dug into her gut and climbed up her spine with a dull ache. She couldn't shake the things floating up into the surface of her thoughts. Random different pictures but all with the same outcome with a the familiar feeling of something right at the tip of her tongue...

It would be easier if Zer0 was any other man. Easy to feel like she's in control. That he wants her, like all the others. But the headgear was doing a good job of leaving her in the dark about it. Faceless. Inscrutable. So maybe... that's why he's getting to her. She doesn't _know_. Or maybe... that's what she tells herself.

Two customers and a generous tip later, she's got nothing left to distract herself with and pretend her focus isn't completely on the still and silent figure in the corner that may or may not be watching her. Moxxi halfheartedly wipes down the counter and the longer she tries to ignore him, the more she pays attention to every small movement he makes, the way his calve muscles tense as he shifts his feet just slightly. The way his hand almost curls around the bottle, as if to take a drink, and loosens again. The set of his shoulders and the span of his chest wrapped up in all that armor. His trigger finger drumming slowly on his thigh which only serves to draw her attention to the regions just a bit further north...

With the way her thoughts are racing, it's almost funny how Moxxi can come up with the dirtiest of innuendos in a drop of a hat, but Zer0 has to say nothing at all. Maybe she's losing her touch.

Moxxi wants to hell herself that it's _not_ him, but just boredom making idle thoughts churn inside her head this way. Since her Underdome, too often is she left alone with them and although the idea of picking up a new lover might fill the void, it's not what she wants at the moment. And especially not a man like Zer0. She's had enough of walking clichés to last a decade thank you very much._ And yet_... and yet her fingers knot a little at the thought of straddling his lap and mapping out every nick on his helmet with her lips. She doesn't even want to know what's underneath. One way or another, we all wear some kind of mask, mental or physical and besides... it's kind of kinky.

And Moxxi likes kinky.

The more he she thinks about about it, the more that strange pull builds up inside and it's not some little thing tempting her anymore. It's not about her boredom or the fact she hasn't had a lover in a while, despite how the rumors go. It's _him_. And she wants him, pure and simple. It's his quiet consideration in the way he looks at her and it's the mystery behind the mask. Maybe clichés aren't that bad after all.

Time to close early, she thinks.

On any other night, she closes the bar and counts out her stash and cleans up behind the counter while the last of the costumers trickle slowly out. No real rush since there's no actual set time to close. Just when she pleases or when she feels like turning in early for the night. But tonight, she makes sure they're out the door and like clockwork, Zer0 is the last one still seated. Before Moxxi can think twice about whether starting something with another Vault Hunter is a good idea or not, the break up with Mordecai is still fresh in her mind, she makes her way over to Zer0's booth. His head tilted a small degree to follow her movements and she smiles, glad she's caught his attention.

"Hey there, sugar," she purrs and perches on the edge of the table. "It's closing time, but we shouldn't let a little thing like that keep you from finishing your drink. In fact..." Moxxi leans down, giving him the best view in the house. "... I got a tall glass of something sweeter if you want a taste."

Zer0 remains perfectly still, as if she hadn't just come on to him shamelessly. Or maybe, he expects lemonade. It was hard to tell. Well, Moxxi's had her share of shy guys. It's not unusual for some men to be intimidated when a woman like herself makes the first move. In fact, it's kind of cute. She could work with that.

"What's the matter, handsome?" Moxxi teases with a soft laugh and reaches the short distance between them, intending to trail her fingertips up the length of his arm. "Cat got yo–" And suddenly, Zer0 flickered into non-existence under her touch; gone in an instant. "What the hell?"

"Did I interrupt?/ I could leave you two alone, / If that is your wish," came a voice behind her, almost amused if it wasn't for the metallic edge to it. Moxxi turned and found Zer0 himself sitting across the table where he was just seconds ago, the letters **LOL** flashing red across his helmet.

"But you were – I thought –" Moxxi sputters for a moment, thrown off her game. If Zer0 was sitting _there_, that means... he hasn't even looked at her once all night. He had to have been facing the door the whole time. "What were you doing sitting there invisible anyway?" She demands, slightly annoyed.

"I was dozing here. / Dreaming the art of bloodshed, / Your voice woke me up," he gave the tiniest of shrugs.

"Because napping in my bar is the ideal place to do it," Moxxi deadpans and lets out an irritated huff. Not one to stay angry, she tries to regain her composure slightly, and let's it go. She laughs despite herself because it's all rather funny now that she thinks about it. "Forget it, sugar. It's a little embarrassing but ah... I thought you've been giving me the eye all night."

Ellipses wink across this helmet for a few moments and he tilts his head back slightly, seemingly to take her all in. "Your interest is / An unexpected surprise, / But not unwanted."

"Is that so?" She says, feeling that half-remembered heat creeping down her neck and slipping down into her stomach, coiling down in there nicely like an old friend. God, she missed it. This time, just to be sure, she leans closer and traces her fingertips across the breastplate of his armor where she thinks his collarbone should be, biting back her smile at how solid he feels. "How about I close up shop and I'll show you exactly what I find so interesting about you against the counter top?"

Zer0 gives an imperceptible nod as she pulls away and his hand slips into hers as she leads him towards the bar. "Oh and, sugar," she tosses over her shoulder, as she starts to undo the first few buttons in her top. "Don't start spewing haiku's when I've got my legs wrapped around your waist, hmm? I'm afraid that'll just ruin it for me."

"Challenge accepted," he agrees.

Tomorrow, she'll open late, she thinks.

* * *

**Notes:** As you can see, I took a few liberties with Zer0's hologram. I figured if he can make the sucker explode and throw Kunai, he could make it sit idly for no other reason than to screw with people, get out of boring conversations or in the above case, nap. Despite his character being devoid of personality, I get the feel of a little humorous streak in him. Maybe it's just me. Whatever. By the way, I'm open to suggestions and requests. I'll try my hand at any pairing. Please keep in mind that the one-shot it inspires may not be what you wished it would be. It's like a scratch off ticket. You might win, but you might only win another ticket.

Thanks for reading!


	3. Gaige & Scooter

**Rating: **M (surprise)  
**Warning(s):** Heavy spoilers, cursing, brief mentions of violence, alcohol use, and sexual situations (non-graphic)  
**Setting:** Sanctuary, Gaige's first time walking through the doors. And then a time lapse several weeks later, a few hours after the mission _Where Angels To Tread Part 2 _and during the mission _Bearer of Bad News_. If you haven't done them, don't read this because it's gonna spoil shit. Seriously. Just, stop now.  
**Notes:** I just have to say... I really enjoyed writing this pairing. _A lot_. And I think it shows because of the length. I've always loved the way Scooter talks and even though I don't think I've got it down perfectly because well – it's SCOOTER – I think I did an alright job. Gaige is pretty easy and fun to write in my opinion but I would have never had thought to hook her up with Scooter. And the more I thought about it, the more it made perfect sense so I'm very glad a couple of reviewers suggested it to me. I had a blast and I might even write them again sometime. No superglue needed. These two fit. Love it, flame it – I don't mind. Enjoy.

* * *

Gaige was not in a good mood.

The past thirty-eight hours have not been pleasant. The science fair fiasco, Marcy Holloway's (while satisfying) death, the shuttle ride out to the border planets and the ferry she had to take just to reach the gates of Sanctuary... just all one long list of reasons why her life sucks at the moment. Didn't help any that the docks were in the middle of buttfuck nowhere and she had to trek through bullymong infested ice caverns to get here. In retrospect, maybe she _shouldn't_ have done donuts that fast near precarious cliffs with the runner she had digistructed at the Catch-A-Ride station. Next time, she'll heed her past driving instructor's warnings. But right now, her driving skills – or lack thereof – wasn't the issue. Now, she was tired, sore, and in need of repairs since the circuitry in her prosthetic took a massive chomp earlier when a stray skag she hadn't seen lunged at her face with every intention to eat it. In the future, she'll upgrade her arm instead of DT for once. No point giving him fancy bells and whistles if she can't digistruct him in the first place.

Her arm swung pointlessly at her side as she made her way past the front gates, and she tried to ignore the uneasy feeling of being off balance. She petted the cool steel of her shoulder and tried not to worry. Sanctuary doesn't look like much so far, but the place is bound to have a mechanic willing enough to lend her some tools and materials. Her father left her with a modest enough sum of cash she could float for a few weeks so money isn't the problem right now. A quick glance around the place informed her that while the look of the town still had that patched up junk-heap look, it looked decent. If Vault Hunting doesn't work for her, she could maybe run some sort of repair gig in this place. The people here would most likely appreciate her talents than they ever did back home. The thought of getting a job wasn't all unpleasant just... not what she expected at the moment. Her life has been flipped upside down and it was getting easier minute by minute to accept it, but it still stings how it spiraled out of control so quickly.

Gaige briefly thinks of Marcy Holloway, and hopes she died as painfully as it looked. The bitch.

Thankfully, she didn't have to look for a mechanic long. Just moments really. Garage being right in front of her and all. Seems like her luck is finally taking the turn for the better. Stepping through the garage door, she looks around for whoever runs the place and it took her a few moments to notice a pair of legs sticking out from under a busted looking antique of a vehicle. Vaguely, she recalls Marcy's father driving a fancy antique all over the place back home. It was a sweet ride, navy blue with a platinum trim, and she remembers the many times she's wanted to stuff the exhaust pipe full with tightly bound magazines of questionable pornography just for shits and giggles. If she regrets missing out on anything in her life, it was that. Maybe one day, she muses.

"Hey, I could use some help here?" Gaige tries her hardest to keep her voice even, despite all her aches and pains. She thinks she maybe passed. It's been a really, really long ride to get here.

A few incoherent sounds issue from under the vehicle, and a scruffy looking guy covered in all kinds of dirt slides smoothly out. From out of his back pocket, he pulls out a cap and wipes away some oil that had dripped onto his forehead, and only managed to smear it further. It was hard to tell how old he was judging by the way the grime just dug into every crease of his face, exaggerating their depth, but she could hazard a guess he was maybe in his late twenties. Could be wrong though. She's horrible at that kind of guesswork. She still hasn't figured out the magic behind the weight guessing booths at the fairs at home. Forever a mystery. But his eyes look young and his smile friendly, so there's _one _redeeming feature.

"Why hey there, you another of them Vault Hunters?" He asked, looking her up and down and Gaige inwardly cringed. That's right. She's almost forgotten how backwards most people supposedly sound on Pandora. There's a daily firework show she don't know about here? "Yer buddies are over at Zed's doing some kinda operation or sumsuch. Ah'd stay away if ah were you. Zed's a trip an' a half – haha – but yeah, he sometimes scares me a little."

Gaige stared, so there _are_ other Vault Hunters here. The rumors were true. On the shuttle from Eden-5, she's heard some chatter over the ECHOnet about a group of Vault Hunters that faced Handsome Jack and lived to tell the tale. Many report a Siren among them, although nothing is really specific. Just talk about a guy who knew a guy that was killed by one of them. And in very gruesome, if outrageous detail. The ECHOnet is a beautiful thing. Maybe she could check them out after her arm's patched up and make some introductions. Sure is better than Hunting alone in any case.

"Yeah, I'll catch up with them later," Gaige says evasively and points at her useless, but still _totally __awesome_, prosthetic. "I'm actually looking for some spare parts at the moment. I need an internal high voltage regu –"

"Aw dayum, ah knew ah was bound to get it right eventually," the grease monkey wrung his cap out and straightened it out on his head a little too aggressively. "Yer one of 'em robots, right? Now look here, ah don't want no trouble with a pretty thing like you, but if you _insist_..." He slips out a large wrench from a pocket and slaps it heavily into his hand. "... best make sure ah'm dead with yer first shot 'fore ah'll take ya with me!"

Gaige wasn't sure whether to laugh or be flattered. She settled instead on being worried for his mental health. Someone had to be. "Are you special or something? It's a prosthetic." She shakes her arm with her other hand in emphasis. "And right now, it's not working. I'll fix it myself and pay for parts."

"_O__oooooh._..." his brows disappear under his cap and he laughs, mentioning her further inside the garage and taking a seat on a ridiculously large tire. "Well, why didn't ya say so? 'M name's Scooter, resident mechanic an' all 'round handyman up in these parts. Ah also run the Catch-A-Ride stations so whenever yer dogs are barkin', you just Catch-A-Ride and get rollin'. Haha, made that name up m'self. C'mere an' lemme take a lookit whatcha got right there."

Yup, there's something definitely special about Scooter. Nevertheless, she follows and shows him the damage. He sucks his teeth at the shredded metal and exposed circuitry and gives a low whistle. "Oh, that is a beauty, mhmm. This is a fine ass piece of machinery right here." He turns her arm every which way, openly admiring the design, and she smiles.

"Thanks, I made it myself," Gaige supplies, pleased with his inspection.

"Yep... an' it is _broke as hell. _That's a sad shame," Scooter shakes his head. "Now, you sit tight an' ah'll fetch whatcha need."

Finally feeling like she's getting a break, Gaige doesn't argue and sits down on the tire, pulling her arm into her lap. Scooter goes off to find whatever she needs and she can hear the clatter of toolboxes and shifting metal echo slightly in the large garage. It took a few moments, but then a thought hit her. How would _he_ know what she needs? Her tech is pretty advanced, and that's putting it modestly. But before she can voice her concern, she spots several ECHOsims stacked on a low shelf and curiously takes a closer look.

"Omg..." she whispers and runs a fingertip along a few titles. "What are you doing with the latest sims on waveform possessing circuits? And Hyperion _SDMS_ designs? Are you kidding me?"

"Oh, that stuff?" Scooter says somewhere across the room as she scans a few more sims. "Ah read 'em. That's what they're for, silly. All bootleg, but hell, they work just fine."

He says it with such an offhand nonchalance, as if they're nothing more than children's sims along with holographic little pictures to paint the scene. What kind of guy _is_ he? And then, that's where it hit's her again. Scooter's _so_ special, he must be some kind of sevant. Even _she_ has some problems grasping a few of the concepts contained in these sims without a few hiccups. The bloody mess that once was Marcy floats vividly to forefront of her mind... dammit. _One hiccup. _

Guh, but getting only third place still stings.

"I'll be in town for a long while, Vault Hunting and stuff," she says absently, still shifting through the sims. "Mind if I borrow a few?"

"Sure, ah don't mind," he says right behind her shoulder now and Gaige turns to find his hands full of everything she _does_ indeed need. Imagine that. "Drop by whenever."

"Scooter..." she begins, a small smile curling her lips. "I think we're gonna be good friends."

He gives a nervous kind of little chuckle and nearly drops a few things. "Do that mean friends with _benefits_ or..."

"I'm _seventeen_," she snaps.

"Ooooh..." Scooter nods slowly at this with a slight frown. "So, when are you legal?"

Gaige sighs. It's been a really long day.

* * *

"So..." Scooter says after a long silence and Gaige tries her best not to sniffle so loudly. "Are you legal yet?"

"Dammit Scooter, I just finished telling you Roland is _dead_ not two minutes ago!" Gaige punched his shoulder hard. And once more to make sure he felt it. "Can you, oh I don't know – contain yourself?"

"Ow! Dayum, yeah ah know," Scooter rubs his shoulder reproachfully. "And ah'm real sad an' all. _Real _sad. This is _sad _on my face. It's just ya look so pretty when ya been cryin', Gaige. Yer eyes are all lit an' yer cheeks are all like... somethin' an' stuff. Y'know, ah – ah dunno the shit that just comes outta my mouth half the time. Jus' ferget ah said nuthin' an' we can get back to huggin' if ya want."

Gaige looks at him, arms outstretched, real sincerity etched into his face, and she knows why he says the things he says. Scooter's brutally honest in every sense of the word. Always saying what's on his mind, even if it doesn't help his image. It can be downright irritating and she might not like it sometimes, but she can appreciate honesty. So she forgives him. Just a little. Besides... he did call her pretty. Not that he hasn't before, no, loads of times. It was just... just different this time.

She steps closer and let's him drape his arms around her shoulders once more. Scooter smells like oil and something metallic she couldn't place, the garage maybe, and God, she misses her old workshop at back at Eden-5. Her father, her old neighborhood, hell even her school to a certain degree. Just everything and anything she left behind because at this moment, life suddenly sucks again now that Roland's dead and she's not quite sure what to do. None of them do, and she feels a little bit out of her depth for the very first time.

"Alright, screw this," Gaige mumbles into the collar of his vest. It's comfy and warm in his arms right now all wrapped in motor oil, but she's tired of sniveling and she's sure her clothes are going to be stained if she let's him hold her much longer. She steps away from Scooter and hurriedly wipes her face, almost poking her eye in the process. "I got snot on your shirt, I think. Sorry." She laughs weakly.

Scooter chuckles and wipes away at the dampness. "It ain't nuthin'. Had worse stains than that before." She can only imagine.

Scooter rocks back and forth on his heels for a moment, the most awkward she's seen him. And for one wild moment, she wants to tell him that her eighteenth birthday has come and gone. About a week ago actually. It hadn't even crossed her mind to tell anyone since it seemed so unimportant compared to saving Pandora. Birthdays and all that kind of normal everyday shit doesn't belong in his planet at all, she thinks. But right now, she really wants to come clean because she owes him that much. And just as she decides to make up her mind, an ECHO loudly sounded and both of them did a kind of pocket pat dance trying to find out who's it was. As it so happens, it belonged to Gaige. She stuck her tongue out at Scooter, suddenly feeling immensely popular before answering.

"Gaige, this is Maya," Maya says needlessly and Gaige had to hold back a roll of her eyes.

"Maya, this is Gaige," she responds instead and somewhere behind her, Scooter chuckles lightly.

A short pause here and she thinks the older woman cottoned on to her patronizing. "We're all having a drink at Moxxi's tonight. We'll probably be back real late. The guy's need it right now. Especially Mordecai and Brick. They knew Roland best. I'd invite you but... you know."

She knows. As long as Maya's around, Gaige can't even look at Moxxi's bar twice. The Siren likes to lay all these rules on her in a lawless planet just because of her age. Never mind that by now, Gaige has long since grown numb to the gore flecking against her cheek when she blows a midget's head off. But one bottle of rakk ale? Oh noes! Never that! Secretly, she thinks the Siren only restricts the bar from her just so she can keep Axton as a permanent drinking buddy all to herself. She can go ahead and keep him. Axton's alright and all, she likes him anyway, but she'd rather drink with Salvador if given the choice. He at least seems like a riot, Axton... not so much.

"I understand," Gaige replies. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

"Don't stay up too late, Salvador is cooking breakfast in the morning."

"Delish, I wonder who I'll be eating..." Gaige muses idly, hoping to get a reaction out of the older woman, but she had already disconnected. Damn. That was a good one too. Why is no one ever around recording the funny shit she says?

"Anyway..." she sighs and absentmindedly dusts off the huge tire that hasn't been moved an inch since she's first got here and sits down. It's become her usual seat by now. She wonders briefly, why Scooter needs so many. Sanctuary's up in the air after all. No real demand for tires. "I don't want to be alone in the HQ tonight. It's like... I expect him to be there, y'know? Can I hang out here?"

"Sure," Scooter looks up at her briefly and starts cleaning out his nails with what she thinks is a tooth pick. "Ah think ah got a deck of cards somewheres to kill time with if yer interested."

"Perfect." Distractions are great right now. She sucks at her teeth, the feeling of something missing just there, right at the tip of her tongue. Gaige eyes Scooter critically and wonders... "Can you do me a favor?"

"Shoot, y'know ah can't say no to you."

"Good, because I wanna say fuck Maya and ask you to get me some rakk ale," she grins. "Feels wrong playing cards and feeling shitty when we should be having a drink to Roland's memory."

"Oooh that? Yeah... yeah, no," Scooter shakes his head. "Nope. That ah can't do."

"C'mon, why not? _Down with the system!_ Remember?"

"'Cause rakk ale's pretty strong an' you'll be so outta it, you won't know whether to scratch yer watch or wind yer ass if ya know what ah'm sayin'," he laughs. "Sorry girly, but you look like a lightweight and ah may or may not take advantage of you." He pauses, as if thinking it over and she's surprised how well he can keep a straight face. "Maybe..."

Gaige bites her lip and wonders vaguely... if she'd mind. The splatter of Roland's blood on her shirt and watching him die not a few hours ago suddenly opened her eyes to what they're truly trying to achieve... and how high the price can be. And in short: shit got real. For the first time since she got here, she's not sure she's going to reach the Vault. Nothing is certain and there's no such things as angels because they can die too. So if she has a drink with a man she's grown to really like over these past several weeks, and if something happens... it could be the only good thing to happen to her in a long while.

She's not a kid anymore. She's a grown woman of science and asskickery and she can do what she likes. "For Roland," she presses.

"Yer makin' a mistake..." Scooter chuckles and she knows she's already won with the slow rise of his smile.

"Than I'll only drink _one_."

* * *

An hour and two and a half mistakes later, she's laughing so hard, she doesn't even care about the funny snorting sounds she makes and if Scooter's noticed, he hasn't said a thing. "... so the mornin' after, my momma found me all tuckered out in a skag den. Even took a picture an' uploaded it on the ECHOnet, said it was cute," Scooter says with a lick of a card and slaps it onto his forehead. "It was cold enough to freeze the balls offa brass bullymong that day an' ah had nuthin' but my socks on. Jus' balls to the wind covered _all_ in dirt an' blood an' shit."

Gaige thinks she sees the Queen of diamonds on Scooter's forehead but couldn't be sure at the moment. It's a face card for sure anyway. Everything was a bit fuzzy and warm at the edges and she feels... invincible... and she can totally get why people drink. Right now, the memory of Roland's death and Lilith's strangled scream after isn't so sharp. She's having a good time right now and everything is... perfect. She clumsily slaps a card on her head too, only for it to flutter to the floor. Oh, that's right. Lick, _then_ slap.

"Blood?" Gaige wrinkles her nose. "You weren't like... raped by skags or something right? Because that would explain a few things..."

"_That_ – is an ugly rumor, mhmm. Whoever said that is a filthy liar," he says and she can't breathe for laughing at the straight look on his face. "Naw, ah'm kiddin' ya. Well ah _did_ say ah was gonna run away and be a wild skag boy. Ah think ah maybe ate some road kill is all. Prolly."

Gaige finally manages to make her card stick and grins. "Okay, what I really wanna know... is why did you only leave your socks on?"

"Pfft. Dunno. Cold feet? Ah was like, nine at the time. Did a lotta stupid shit," Scooter chuckles and she loves the way his accent sounds right now.

He's slumped down in his chair across from her, cap on his knee, legs propped up on the tire at her side and she tries to remember how she's gotten so used to him being so close. The bottle at his side scrapes the cement lightly as he picks it up and she's suddenly very interested in the way his throat works as he takes a swig. Maybe it's because he's not wearing his hat, or that his face looks a bit cleaner, or hell – it could just be the drinks – but Scooter looks really cute at the moment. He briefly licks the lasting moisture off his lips, she couldn't help but wet her own lips in response.

She wants him, she realized.

How the hell did that happen?

"C'mon now Miss Mechomancer, it's your turn and ah'm lookin' to even the score."

Oh, right. The game. They've been playing Blind Man's Bluff the last two games since handling too many cards at the moment was starting to be a challenge. Gaige gently touches her forehead to make sure the card's still there and squints across at Scooter. What was it again? King of diamonds? She can't tell and she might be working with less than ten percent of her motor skills right now but something tells her it's a good idea to stand and take a closer look.

"Whoa there," Scooter says, the concern in his brows making the card stuck there sink a bit. "Yer a bit tipsy an' like ah said, that rakk ale hits pretty hard."

"I'm totally fine," Gaige says and absently plucks Scooter's cap from his knee, turning it over in her hands before slipping it on backwards. She's always looked good in hats.

Suddenly remembering just why she got up in the first place, she leans closer to take a better look. Feeling unbalanced, Gaige stumbles, accidentally knocking away the rest of her ale; bottle making a musical little sound as it rolled away. Bracing herself for impact, Gaige threw her arm out and met nothing but air, Scooter's leg having broken her fall. She giggled uproariously as she hung there, inches away from the floor as her card fluttered off under the chair. She thinks it could have been a six of spades.

"Alright, ah'm startin' to feel a lil' bit bad 'bout yer drinkin'," Scooter sighs, slowly lowering his leg until Gaige was a giggly mess on the floor. "Let's getcha home before you start pukin' all over the place."

"No, no," she insists and carefully pulls herself up by his knee, cap askew. "Just stood up too fast or something, really. I'm buzzed, yeah, but not piss drunk." And that much was true, she felt good. Just giggly and a little unsteady, but not sick at all. She can even recall with perfect clarity every element to the periodic table in her head.

"Nope. Ah'm takin' ya back. C'mon now."

As Scooter starts to set his drink down, Gaige doesn't think. She only reacts, and the only thing she knows right now is that she doesn't want to go anywhere or be anywhere but here right now. Before he get's the chance to stand, Gaige pulls herself up into his lap, and Scooter's bottle hits the floor with a loud thunk before it too rolled away.

"We're not going anywhere now," she says and bites her lip, a nervous flutter settling in her belly, but she's not afraid. Somehow, she wants this right now and maybe everything today has been leading up to this moment all along. It'd sure as hell make everything worth it. Her eyes drag over his face, still and almost slack with surprise, and land on the card stuck to his head. Jack of Hearts. It suits him. She sweeps it off his forehead and chucks it somewhere past her shoulder. No more games.

"Aw shit, is you seriously sitin' on my lap right now? Oh, no. Shit. Now ah'm _definitely_ feeling bad," he says and looks somewhere over her left shoulder, thigh muscles tensing beneath her. "Yer drunk, Gaige. Git off 'fore we both do sumthin' you'll regret, 'cause ah won't."

Gaige thinks back about they way he practically admitted not being above taking advantage of her, and she slips her arms past his shoulders, leaning close enough to feel the light stubble on his skin tickle her cheek. "I don't think you get it, I'm taking advantage of _you_," she whispers in his ear.

Scooter tips his head back and she plays with the small hairs at the nape of his neck. "When you say it like _that_ now..." he slides one hand up onto her hips, the other on the side of her thigh. "... but ah dunno... maybe we should –"

And whatever they should do, dies in an instant as Gaige does what she wants instead and presses her lips against his. They're thin, but not unpleasant; still wet with bitterness from his last sip of ale. His hands tighten when she traces her tongue experimentally along his bottom lip and a small little gasp escapes them, his hips bucking against her. He returns the gesture and it's clear he doesn't know what he's doing, but when his lips stumble sweetly against hers, she doesn't really mind at all. She's not sure she knows what she's doing either.

She feels the pad of his thumb find a tear in her leggings and rub small circles there and that small little patch of skin is on fire. Scooter deepens the kiss, and he's driving her insane with how responsive he is because she's got nothing but leggings between them and she can feel every inch of him straining against his pants between her thighs. Scooter breaks away from her lips and starts working his way down her neck with hot, open mouthed nips and kisses, and she grinds down harder against him.

"Gunna have to stop me now," he breathes into the hollow of her throat as his hand slides further up her thigh, and she has no intention to do such a thing. "Ah'd hate to ruin ya so young."

Her mind is sluggish, focused entirely where and what his hands are doing to her, but suddenly something clicked in her head and she remembered. "I... _oh_..." she gasps, and fuck he's making it hard to talk right now. "I have good news... my birthday was last week so..."

Scooter's hand stops and she bites back a moan, "What? Are you sayin' ah'm in what ah think is second base with you, and _now_ you tell me yer legal?"

Gaige blushes and lets out a giddy little giggle. "Surprise?"

"Hell yeah ah'm surprised," he shakes his head and kisses her softly, his hands slowly making her body shudder again."Do me a solid though..."

"Don't think I can say no right now," Gaige barely manages to say.

"Can ah just keep thinking yer seventeen in mah head or is that too weird? Yeah... yeah that's weird. Ferget ah said nuthin'."

Gaige kisses him between giggles and hopes she's going to have another long night on Pandora.

* * *

**Notes: **I HAVE FOUND MY OTP PEOPLE. And it is Gaige/Scooter. Yup. I am NOT ashamed. I have grown to really love it. About her age, I thought at first she was sixteen. Then checking around all over the place, turns out she's officially eighteen. But I didn't want her that right off the bat, so you can see what I did up there. Also, I'm really glad how everything turned out. Hope y'all liked it too. Thanks for reading!


	4. Lilith & Mordecai

**Rating:** M  
**Warning(s):** Heavy spoilers, brief use of alcohol, cursing, and sexual situations (non-graphic).  
**Character(s)/Pairing(s):** Mentions of Roland/Lilith, Lilith/Mordecai. All in Mordecai's point of view.  
**Setting:** Takes place before the game when Lilith became the Firehawk and started hiding out in Frostburn Canyon. Then a time lapse to the end of the game after the mission _Talon of God_. Lots of spoilers, don't read if you don't want to get pissed.  
**Notes:** Took forever to write this because all of the angsty feels and how I feel kinda guilty because my fics are supposed to be funny. That and I'm STILL trying to wrap my mind around how I'm supposed to make a Sal & Ellie fic work. It might take a bit, but I'mma try. Roland and Tannis? That's a riot planning to happen. I feel like Dr Zed creating freaks of nature... a little bit of this here, sew this limb to this... mmmf. Lovely. Love it, flame it – I don't mind. Enjoy.

* * *

Mordecai likes to sit back and watch. It's just what he does. Some people can't stand the stillness. The slow passage of time inching by. Nothing but your thoughts buzzing around your head. He thinks that's what gets to them the most; being alone with just their thoughts. Most people he guesses, unknowingly build a hive of doubts and worries and fears until it escalates into such a high drone, they have to do something – anything – to silence it and get away from themselves.

Deep in the Frostburn Canyon, he watches Lilith try to get away for the better part of the year.

He wants to tell himself that he's here this time for an exchange of information they can't chance having the Hyperion network listen to over the ECHOnet, but he'll only be lying to himself. He hadn't told Roland he was dropping by, and he's willing to bet Lilith has done the same. They've met like this more times than he can count and sometimes, he's not sure if the Solider is completely as oblivious as he lets on. He'd like to think Roland should have seen this coming, but then not many people actually watch as closely as Mordecai does.

The wind whistles coolly from the cliff face as he steps into her makeshift living quarters and somewhere, he thinks he hears the deranged laughter of some psycho down below. It's quiet here, he thinks. He wouldn't mind the silence much, but Lilith... he could only imagine the boredom she must be going through. Mordecai's sure Roland has legitimate reasons for situating Lilith here. It was best for all of them to keep the Siren hidden, let them keep thinking she's dead. But sometimes, he's not convinced if that's the only reason. Maybe Roland needed to get away from himself too.

Bloodwing takes flight, cawing her goodbye as she soars outside and he finds Lilith waiting for him sitting on her couch, feet propped up on a beat up box. She looks at him and he looks at her. There's not much going on. She can look at him with an expression that says she doesn't expect him to say anything and he's grown to expect the same. They don't speak much at these moments. Maybe because she doesn't want to feel guilty and he doesn't want to try to hear the reasons why. Both of them have their own reasons for doing what they do and they understand each other too well to pretend otherwise.

He sits down at her side and she sits back on her end of the couch with a sigh, legs draping over his lap. Without saying a word, he starts to undo her boots; the zipper loud in the silence. She helps kick them off and he gently massages her calves, working his way down to her feet. He wants to ask her how she's doing, but he's not much for small talk. Besides, he's got a good idea already. Roland officially broke it off between them and her mind must be screaming like varkids on fire, stuck in here with too much time devoted to her thoughts and too little time doing anything else besides. He's surprised they lasted as long as they did.

"I tried," she breaks the silence, fingers knotting absently until she stills them on her stomach, and he knows. She's always tried. "I can't fucking do right for doing wrong and I... I just can't be what he wants me to be. And he, he is so _good_. You know how good he is... I _can't_ –"

"I know," he says because that's all she needs to hear and that's all he's willing to listen to.

Before all this, before New Haven burned... things were different. She was in love and maybe that occupied her thoughts instead. They were busy in their own way, trying to make a home, trying to adjust to living without a Vault and the addictive danger that came with it. Mordecai broke the monotony by drinking and watched them, watched her, and how much effort she went through to domesticate herself. Not for herself, but for Roland, and Mordecai has always been able to see right through it.

When you watch people enough, it gets easier and easier to see how things will turn out. And so, he wasn't at all surprised when Lilith would occasionally call him over like this. And if they sit in silence for a while, it wouldn't keep her from wrapping her legs around his waist. Or making her cry out his name instead of Roland's. Or keep him from coming back more often than he should because she _doesn't_ love him. All she wants is to keep her thoughts at bay. But for a few hours, she'll belong to him and later, he'll drink to forget he ever had her in the first place.

Briefly, he thinks of Moxxi and how he's starting to make a pattern of wanting women he can't keep. He's glad he's never truly alone, Bloodwing always his side.

Mordecai works his fingers in deeper, inching higher up to her thighs and she sighs into his touch, legs parting gently. Slowly, she peels off her top and he loves the things her skin does to him. The sharp contrast of milky white against blue marbling her body, the only graceful and feminine thing about her and he wouldn't have her any other way. He finds her zipper, gives it a tug, and leans down to give her a lingering kiss on the skin exposed there.

"Got any advice?" She says at length and a part of him wishes she'd drop it.

He's not here to talk about Roland. It's been nearly a month or so since he's last been here and he's not sure how long she'll let him stay this time. When his eyes catch hers, he wants to tell her to fuck all and forget Hyperion, forget the Crimson Raiders – forget _Roland_ – and just spend the rest of their days making love on this couch. But he doesn't. He never does. Instead, he tugs down her pants past her hips and makes do with the slice of heaven between her thighs.

"Play hard to get," he says, and she gives a doubtful little laugh that's more like a tired sigh. "Nah, really. It works on me."

* * *

The HQ was empty except for the two them, everyone out at the bar celebrating, and Mordecai feels strange without the comforting weight of Bloodwing at his shoulder. Raw. Uneasy. He takes another swig from the bottle never far from his hand these days to help take the edge off. Sometimes, he thinks she's just off hunting until he remembers she's not coming back. His thoughts haven't been quiet as of late and it's getting harder and harder to sit back and let things play out like before. It feels like he's on the wrong end of a scope and he's waiting for the bullet to pierce his skull.

Lilith lays her hand gently on his shoulder, and briefly, he likens the feeling to Bloodwing's comforting weight. Wordlessly, he pulls her in because for the first time in a long while, the hours have been dragging on forever and he's spent far too long thinking and there's nothing to stop them now. No guilt because the dead don't care. No one here to bring them back to reality. Just the two of them in this silence after the storm.

"I tried," she says, and her voice breaks with an eerie silent kind of sob, where the tears are falling but she's stoic and almost calm. "I fucked up. I should have listened and now he's dead. He's _dead_ because of me."

"I know," he says, because he _can't_ lie to her. If she had never shown up, Handsome Jack would've probably never tried such a desperate move to replace his catalyst. Sucks, but it only proves what he's always known. Shit just happens. Lilith never meant for Roland to die.

Since Roland's death, he's wanted to ask her sometimes if everything they've done since they stepped off that bus was worth it. If maybe... they should've just got off at the next station and said fuck all to any would be angels. If everything they worked so hard for really outweighed all the shit they just kept stepping in. Seems like that's all they ever did. But he doesn't ask. He thinks about it and keeps it to himself. They would've all just turned bandit anyway. Maybe it's better this way. This way... Roland died a hero. It suits him. He's always been the best out of all of them.

He wants to tell her he loves her, but he knows he never will. She'd probably just laugh because Lilith's not the kind of girl you'd bring home to mom and he knows she'll never settle for a white picket fence. Roland found that out the hard way. Instead, he puts down the bottle, the first time in weeks, and picks her up. Her legs automatically wrap around his waist and he hoists her onto the table Roland poured over for so many nights. The light casts her skin into a ghostly glow, and he thinks she's the most beautiful she's ever been.

"It'll be alright, Lil," he says, because it's what she needs to hear and he wants it to be true too.

Right now, he doesn't want to talk about Roland, or how they're guilty of so much worse shit in their lives. Instead, he kisses her collarbone and slowly makes his way to her lips. Most people... himself included now... just have to do anything and everything to keep from going crazy and get away from themselves. So when he traces his lips against hers, he get's lost in them in what feels like the first time in long while. They're wet and salty from tears, but when she makes a soft little sound of pleasure in the back of her throat, he doesn't mind at all. Her thighs tighten around his waist and she pulls him in impossibly further as her fingers bury themselves into his hair.

"I'll uh... try not to screw this up," she says with a soft little laugh, and he tries not too expect much. "Hell only knows you and Brick are all I've got left."

"You got me no matter what you do," he slips her fleece jacket past her shoulders and kisses the shell of her ear.

"Gee, thanks for that vote of confidence," she huffs but he can tell by now she's not all that annoyed.

"We're all fuck ups, babe," he murmurs against her lips and she smiles. It's small and cynical, just a little tilt of her lips, but it's there. "Just what we do."

And so, they get away for a few hours. And if Mordecai twists the cap off another bottle of booze and if Lilith still thinks of Roland the next day... it's alright. They're all fuck ups. Just proves what he's always known.

* * *

**Notes:** I'M SO SORRY THIS WAS SO ANGSTY. I'm just gonna blame this on my lack of nicotine at the moment since I'm trying to quit and chain smoking while writing makes everything so much easier. Don't worry, this chapter won't be the only chapter that'll feature these characters. Since they're all one-shots, I can try my hand at pairings multiple times. I shall write a funny and fluffy one yet! Might update... next week-ish. Maybe.


	5. Salvador & Ellie

**Rating:** T  
**Warnings:** Some cursing, some violence (non-graphic), and a large amount of awkward flirting (as advertised by Ellie on the radio).  
**Character(s)Pairing(s):** Hints of Axton/Maya and a lot of Salvador/Ellie. All in Salvador's point of view.  
**Setting:** The Dust, during the mission where you scavenge for bandit technical parts. Can't recall the name at the moment, sorreh.  
**Notes:** Took forever to write because I got some sorta mental block as far as Salvador was concerned because I was so nervous being (I think) the first on here to write him and I'm currently battling the flu. *sniffle*. It's terribly short, I know, but I promise to make up for it as soon as I get better. In the mean time, I'mma try to figure out what pairing I'll write next. Any and all suggestions are welcome! Love it, flame it – I don't mind! Enjoy!

* * *

Sweat worked its way down uncomfortably between Salvador's shoulder blades and not for the first time, did he damn the heat. The Dust was aptly named. Only on Pandora can the scenery change from one extreme to another with just a few hours of driving. Sand dunes slope gently in and out of the horizon, broken only with the occasional glimpse of a hidden road that once ran through the area. He remembers a time way back when the old Dahlwell Oasis used to be aptly named as well.

Ignoring the heat, Salvador tries to wrap his mind around something new he's been called recently. He's been called a lot of things in his life. Insane, sadomasochistic, cannibal, bandit and a whole lot other big words that pretty much sums up 'murderer'. And he's just fine with all that. Likes it even. Every word just screams badass and a lot of them just so happen to be true. But there's one word he's never been called and he's not sure what to make of it. It sure as hell didn't sound badass in any case.

"She called me '_cutie_'," he says suddenly over the roar of the engine, and he thinks he hears Axton chuckle lightly. This didn't help any and Salvador turns the turret around sharply, ignoring the deranged taunting from a bandit technical coming up from behind them. Salvador was a lot of things, but he definitely wasn't cute. "You think this is funny, pendejo?"

"It's a southern thing," Axton shouts back and swerves the runner around, dust flying off the tires in high arcs and peppering the bandits with bullets. "Like 'darlin'' or 'sweetie'. That sorta thing."

"She called me 'cutie' _repeatedly_," he insists and focuses back on the enemy, trying to aim at the gas tank. "I know I'm no Rico suave, but I think she's coming onto me. What you think?"

A loud explosion followed by a spray of body parts fill the air like so many gruesome fireworks as the vehicle goes up in flames and Axton laughs outright before slowing to a stop. "Y'know, Sal?" Axton hops out of his seat and kicks sand on a smoking tire to smother the flames. "Maybe you're right. But it can't be all bad though. I mean, she's got a _huge_ pair of – uh – a great personality."

That she does. In spades. Huge _everything_, but hell, Salvador's always thought bigger is always better. In his opinion, a perfect woman should be exactly like his taste in guns; a sassy kickback, deadly as hell, and taller than he is. The last can't be helped, but he doesn't mind. In bed, everyone's about the same height anyway. Ellie could be a whole lot worse for being related to Scooter, hell, she could've had two heads. He wonders for a moment if that would've stopped him, and internally shrugged. Having been born and raised on Pandora, he knows there are worse things than having two heads.

Salvador isn't the kind of guy to daydream since it usually involves thinking and that's not always a good thing. But at the moment, he couldn't shake the idea of her fingers tracing the line of his jaw and twisting playfully into his beard. Or the curl of her smile as his lips close over that tease of a tattoo on the rise of her breast...

Salvador rolls his shoulders to release the tension building there... and among other places. Thinking never does him any good since his thoughts are only ever about two things: blowing stuff up and fucking something. Doing neither at the moment just made things worse.

"I'd motorboat that personality," Salvador admits finally and watches Maya and Zer0 speed past, off hunting for the next bandit technical to scavenge parts from. "Just bbbbtpptbbbt and stuff."

"Watch out now," Axton grins. "Ellie might not take that kindly. We _did_ walk in on her crushing a man to death not an hour ago. It'd sure ruin my day for the same to happen to you. A guy like you can only be so short."

"Fuck you, pretty boy," Salvador says without any real venom. "Nobody's perfect. Además... I like a woman who can put a man in his place. Makes it fun, eh amigo?"

"A man after my own heart," Axton loads the tire into the back of the runner with a laugh. "I'll tell ya, I wouldn't mind if Maya phaselocked me, hell I'd –"

"Y'all know ah can hear everythin' y'all sayin', right?" Came Ellie's sugar-sweet cheery voice over the ECHO and Salvador nearly jumps in his seat with a curse.

"So can we," supplies Maya's amused voice, and Axton groans. "Go on... phaselock you and do what exactly?"

"Hold up girly, ah think Rico suavay over there oughta deliver those parts hisself before you go try anythin' with solider boy on my time," Ellie continues and Salvador tries vainly to find the ECHO device in his backpack. "How 'bout it, cutie? Come on down and we'll see if yer new technical ain't the only thing you'll ride."

Ellie makes what Salvador thinks is a seductive tiger growl just as he gives the ECHO a panicked push of a button and slumps back in his seat with a sigh. He was planing on making a move on Ellie anyway, but this wasn't the way he had in mind. Flirting just isn't his strong suit and he's not going to try it over the ECHO. "I_ got__ta_ learn how to work this thing."

Axton frowns pensively for a few moments. "You think she heard me talking about her tits? Because I _so_ totally was."

"We can _still_ hear you," Maya says and Salvador chucks the ECHO up into the air and empties his clip at it. With a small yet satisfying electric burst, it broke apart into tiny pieces all over the sand.

"That was awkward," Salvador says as he climbs out of the turret seat and into the driver seat with a grunt and starts the engine. The tires kick up sand and Axton back steps out of the spray with a curse.

"Where you goin'?" Axton shouts out as Salvador reverses into a wild U-turn. "C'mon, Sal, can't just leave me out here!"

"You a commando, find cover or something. It's what you good at," Salvador grins and sets his sights on Ellie's bright neon sign twinkling invitingly in the distance. "Me? I'm gonna catch a ride..."

Without a backward glance, Salvador hits the gas and makes his way towards Ellie's garage. He might not think he's any kind of cute, but neither was old Dahlwell an oasis anymore. He's been called a lot of things in his life... he could live with one more.

* * *

**Notes:** Whenever I play as Salvador, I call Ellie my girlfriend and motorboat her shamelessly. They're just RIGHT THERE at the perfect height, _amiright_? Who wouldn't!? Aaaaah... boobies are fun.


	6. Roland & Angel

**Rating:** T  
**Warning(s):** One curse word and a whole lot of spoilers. Click that back button if you haven't gotten past _Where Angels Fear __T__o Tread_.  
**Character(s)Paring(s):** A bit one-sided Roland/Angel and all in Angel's point of view.  
**Setting:** This pretty much spans both games with a few time lapses. The first one takes place around the beginning of the first game, wherever you like. The second, sometime before the original Vault Hunters reach the Destroyer. The third, after the fall of New Haven in the five years between both games. The fourth takes place in the second game after the mission _Bright Lights, Flying City_. And the last takes place during the mission _Where Angels Fear To Tread_ part one and two.  
**Notes:** So a reviewer suggested a paring involving Angel and one of the original four Vault Hunters and I decided to go with Roland. He was always my favorite of the four and I felt they'd make a good pairing. Also, I failed on delivering something funny again. Sorry. I really like how this turned out, even if it is kind of sad and angsty. Dunno what I got planned for the next chapter. I hope to try and tackle a Zed/Tannis one-shot but inspiration takes wild leaps sometimes so no promises. Love it, flame it – I don't mind. Enjoy!

* * *

"So… uh… in case you're listening out there, just thought I'd say you're some sort of angel," Roland says quietly into his ECHO device, and somewhere hundreds of miles away, Angel smiles just a little at how close he almost is to the truth.

He's alone from what she can see; the others perhaps sleeping inside the makeshift shelter nearby they had luckily stumbled across in the barren wasteland of Pandora. He sits near a small flickering flame of a fire to drive away the darkness of the night. She strains to see him clearly and one, two, three different satellites turn just minimally in the cold of space to capture the way the shadows dance across this face. She's become so bonded with Hyperion tech, it's become an unconscious effort by now to manipulate every single thing down to the detail. It _wasn't_ perfect, no… but it was enough and she could almost remember the way the cool breeze feels against her skin. Almost, but not quite.

He bows his head slightly, throwing half his face in shadow and she focuses the lens. "Don't know what I'm doing out here half the time," he continues and if anyone else were watching, he'd look like a man praying. "I feel like there's a war coming I don't know about."

Something inside her breaks at that moment and she wishes she could tell him everything – _just anything_ – but the words cut her tongue. She's not sure if whatever she has to say can really help or make things worse. Anything she has to say will only damn her and she's not quite ready to come out with the truth. _Not yet_. For now, he's her friend. For now… she's not alone. And she's been alone for far too long.

"Doing alright though, with your help," he sweeps off his béret and runs his fingers though his scalp for a moment. "The others... well... they're a tough bunch of characters, I'll give them that. They can handle themselves. Don't get why they look up to me, but they do. Good having them around that's for sure."

She wants to tell him they look to him for answers because he's a good man on a bad planet. The _only_ good man, as far as she cares to know. Roland's strength and perseverance is infectious and he'd only ever have to say the word and he can move entire armies if the need would ever arise and she hopes one day, it might just come to that. At times, playing the spider is wholly based on hope. Hope that the world will turn for the better. Hope that one day things will change and that all the lies and half-truths will be worth all the trouble in the end. She hopes for a lot of things.

So for now, she says nothing because the man who once was her father hadn't scripted anything to say for something like this and there's always a chance he's listening. One day, she hopes things will be different and she won't need to censor herself anymore.

"So… yeah. Just wanted to say thanks," Roland slips his béret back on with a sigh. "Thanks and well… goodnight wherever you are out there," he says and goes offline with an audible _click_. He stands somewhat slowly, as if taking his time to take in his surroundings, and kicks the last of the fire out.

The darkness impairs her sight but she stays watching the embers die out long after he's gone.

* * *

Every few nights or so, Roland carries on with their one-sided conversations. Always alone somewhere, and never for long because they're always on the move to get one step closer to the Vault, but she's grown to appreciate what few words he shares just with her. Sometimes, they're no more than a few comments here and there about his day like his musings about the 'mutant sunflowers' or how he had ridiculously defied the laws of physics and managed to get the runner stuck upside down between a cliff face and a Catch-A-Ride station. Other times he seems to just think out loud about any random thing. His thoughts about the Vault, his worries about his teammates, how he missed home cooking. But usually, it was little more than a status report on their progress and she wonders if being a solider is just so instilled in him, that he feels the need to report to just anyone to feel productive. It's silly, but an endearing quirk and she's never minded at all.

_Once a military dog, always a military dog_, Jack had said once after listening in on one of Roland's progress reports and she wonders when she's grown so numb to his snide remarks... and how she couldn't remember the last time she had actually called him Dad. And he's never bothered to correct her, as if he knows that things are too different to pretend otherwise. It's almost shocking looking back at what you once where to what you are now. Almost, but not quite. Angel phaseshifts into the calming subspace of the ECHOnet and forgets why calling him Dad ever mattered so much in the first place.

She finds him effortlessly. Over time, it's become easier and easier to do so and Angel's not sure if it's because she's finally mastered her abilities, or because she's anxious to see him. Maybe a mix of both. It's hardly been a day since she had regained contact with the Vault Hunters after a week long interference where she was blind to everything, and now she feels as if she's making up for lost time. This time, she finds him leaning against his runner, apparently waiting on the others while they fill up on ammo and medkits. The sun is high in the sky and even though she doesn't envy the heat he must be feeling under his armor, she does miss the sunlight. Almost as if he felt her eyes on him, he reaches into in pocket for his ECHO device.

"Hey, this might sound cheesy..." he says after a few moments of hesitation. "But I missed talking to you. I missed _you_."

And something in her chest clenches at those three simple words. Unconsciously, she checks and double checks the ECHOnet to make sure no one's listening and says the first thing she's ever said with sincere honesty.

"I've missed you too, friend."

He chuckles softly and at that moment, she pictures herself at his side. The light breeze tugging her hair, the sunshine beating down on her shoulders. The sun heated metal of the runner idling as she leans against it and… him. Just him. His laughter at her ear, his broad easygoing smile, maybe his shoulder almost touching hers. She focuses on every single detail in that scene she can't be apart of because even if she _can't_ be there in person, she'll make it a memory nonetheless. She deserves that much.

"Wow, you finally break radio silence for me," he says and glances over his shoulder towards his teammates who looked to be comparing weapons. "Should I be flattered?"

Suddenly, everything just feels too hot and too tight and she thinks she might be blushing. "I had to say something eventually or you'd start arguing with your ECHO recorder like Tannis," she says teasingly.

"Well, I missed you all the same," he says and that clenching ache washes over her again. It's a wave of joy and excitement and maybe a little bit of fear and bittersweet longing all mixed up into a jumble of emotions, but she bites her lip and takes it all in because she might not feel it again for a long time.

"You're close, friend," Angel says finally, falling back into what she's supposed to say. She can't risk any more irrelevant conversation at the moment, not when she hasn't tested her boundaries yet. "When you reach the Eridian Promontory, I'll contact all of you once again."

"Angel," he calls her, although she's never told him her name. "Whatever we're facing in the Vault..." He breaks off, unsure, and she hopes he won't ask her more questions so she won't have to lie to him anymore. "Will I ever get to meet you in person?"

This question she wasn't expecting and she's not quite sure what to say. "Maybe one day," Angel says carefully because one day, he might not want to meet her at all. "I hope so."

"Yeah... me too."

* * *

They stop talking after the fall of New Haven.

Not for lack of trying on her part because she apologized and admitted her guilt and regret in all of what happened, but all the apologies in the world couldn't make up for her betrayal and the deaths of so many. And she didn't blame him. At first, every few nights she'd make contact with him. Not for anything important because asking for forgiveness was simply a wasted and painful effort by then, but just everyday things. How things are coming along in Sanctuary and how well of a job he's doing as a leader. The things she's seen around the ECHOnet that interest her or whatever little thing that comes to mind. Pointless conversation, she knows, but what else can she really say?

She doesn't tell him she misses him. She's afraid he might not answer.

As time went by, Angel's one-sided conversations became less and less until she stopped talking altogether. She had given up hope that things could ever be the same between them. She continued following Jack's orders and pushed the limits of her newly expanding abilities due to the eridium coursing through her veins. Becoming more and more familiar with Jack's plans and motivations in order to find a way thwart them in the future and free herself – _free Pandora_ – once more.

She still watches him sometimes. And if she watches and pretends that for just a moment, she's by his side wherever he is... she treasures that memory because she deserves at least that much.

* * *

Her heart hammers against her chest when he speaks to her again, but she tries not to let it show in her voice how much it's affecting her. Roland doesn't trust her, and she doesn't expect him to. They talk because he's forced to make a decision that can help and change everything, even if he suspects his choices aren't even his to make but rather the options Jack gives to gore him no matter which way he turns.

And he was right.

When the shields go down in Sanctuary, Angel feels completely alone once again. This time, Angel doesn't ask for forgiveness she doesn't deserve.

* * *

They're close now, she's sure of it without even bothering to look. A battle rages somewhere far above her tomb and the very walls tremble just a bit with each hit.

Roland had come around, although grudgingly after she had laid out every step of the plan she had been working on for a long time. He had to, she realizes, because passing up such an opportunity would be a mistake and they both knew this. Maybe somewhere inside him, she hopes he's possibly started to trust her again although she knows it's far too late now for her. It's a small and feeble kind of hope, but it's something in the nothing she had before and you've got to hold onto something when you've nothing else.

The Vault Hunter's battle above with the BNK3R is raging too wildly to watch clearly, but she manages to follow Roland's progress as he climbs up the cliff face and disappear somewhere inside an open ventilator shaft she had left open just for him. And suddenly, that half-remembered and confused mix of feelings grip her slowly once more, and she taps into it, drawing it in and turning it into the strength to do what must be done. She savors it slowly and examines every facet of it; every nook and cranny full of what's good and pure and dark and full of want all wrapped up in loneliness and she holds onto every sharp and bitter edge. All her half-real memories rise up to the surface of her thoughts. Each touch, each smile, every little detail she's taken out and relived when she's needed them most and Angel thinks...

...she loves this man.

It's difficult to understand exactly what she feels since love is never as simple as a one word answer. There's a lot of happiness and pain in her heart, like silk and razor blades mixing inside. It's a bigger and deeper feeling than words, like trying to imagine a million different colors in a second, all distinct but indistinct. And because of all this, she feels like her heart has stopped, everything hanging on hold. For a long moment, Angel feels as though her mind is buzzing with everything she's ever thought before and absolutely nothing at all because she has to accept the harsh reality of her situation.

Some people, she thinks, aren't meant to have their own lives, and just sacrifice themselves for the good of others. She's accepted this role long ago because it makes her truly happy. But now, with this new feeling... she suddenly realizes why she shouldn't love Roland in the first place.

Angel hears the fall of his step before she sees him and for a wild moment, she wishes he didn't have to see her this way. For years, the eridium has been pumping through her body and she doesn't think she's the same girl she used to be. Raw, hollowed out and empty. Eyes red-rimmed and trying so hard not to feel for so long. He lands heavily with a muffled grunt onto the tiled floors and his footsteps echo in her prison, too loud and not loud enough all at once. Angel raises her eyes to meet meet his for the very first time and despite everything she feels and shouldn't feel – _despite everything_ – she smiles.

"You're a _Siren_?" His voice breaks the silence, confused and almost in awe and she laughs. It's old and tired and it hurts just a little bit, but she laughs softly nonetheless.

"I've missed you too," she says.

A wan smile graces his features then. "Yeah... I've missed you too. I've missed you a lot." He reaches out slowly and carefully tests the barrier between them and his hands press flat against it like glass. "We're going to free you and get the Vault key out of here, Angel. Jack can't stop us, I can promise you that."

Angel doesn't tell him that he's not here to save her. He'll find out soon enough and she doesn't want to ruin the moment by telling him the truth. _Not yet_. For now, she's not alone anymore and she can take comfort in the fact that he'll be with her in the end and that's all that really matters. Now, they're running out of time and outside, she's sure the battle has died down and the Vault Hunters will be coming any moment to do what must be done. She can't lose what little courage she has left.

She doesn't tell him she loves him. A part of her thinks he already knows. Instead, she pretends – always pretends – she's standing just on the other side of the barrier and lays her hand against his.

"I believe in you, friend," she says, even though it's just another half-truth. Sometimes, it's better that way.

* * *

**Notes:** Yes, I went a little AU at the ending. Didn't think the dialog in there could be said while shooting wave after wave of Hyperion robots while Handsome Jack is threatening in the background. Doesn't make for a bittersweet scene. Let's just pretend Roland got inside before the Vault Hunters do. Also, I want to thank everyone who's reviewing so far, and for those who don't, your silent numbers keep me going! Thanks for reading!


	7. Zed & Tannis

**Rating:** M  
**Warning(s):** Several curse words, some gore (not too graphic), and suggestive themes  
**Character(s)Paring(s):** Dr Zed/ Patricia Tannis and all in Zed's point of view.  
**Setting:** Sanctuary, Zed's place. Anytime you want I guess but before the end for sure.  
**Notes:** So I braved this pairing finally. I wrote this one much faster than I thought I would. Not as long as I would've liked, but I'm comfortable with the length. Not sure how well I nailed Tannis considering her social problems and it's hard to guess a believable manner she might carry herself in a romantic setting with anyone that isn't inanimate, but I think I did an alright job. Also, for those of you that DO know medical terms and procedures, please ignore all of my mistakes. Just like Zed, I don't have a medical license either. Love it, flame it – I don't mind. Enjoy!

* * *

"Now you just relax and tell the good ol' doctor where it hurts," Dr. Zed says in a way he thinks might be reassuring, but beneath his surgical mask… he grins. He loves this part of the job.

Sure there's that one feeling you get when you've helped someone recover from a buzz-ax to the face, he likes that part of the job too. It's something like accomplishment at a job well done and knowing he had helped someone. That's good and all. But _this_ part... the part where the patient is bleeding out the last of his life on the surgical table right beneath his gloved fingers… is the best. It's what makes being a doctor worth all the strife. There's a sense of power in that moment. Of responsibility. A great _satisfaction_ knowing he's the only one in this town that can make it right. And that's a great feeling. There ain't nothin' like it.

Sure he might not have a medical license, but that don't stop the people of Sanctuary from coming to him since he's the closest thing they have to a real doctor. In the end, it's a job and someone's got to do it. Might as well be him and he's only too ready to operate.

His patient struggles to breathe. Rattling deep breaths shake his body as the blood pours out of the open wound between his first and second rib and he spasms on the table. "I –" he begins to say, but Zed shushes him into a raspy silence.

"That was a rhetorical question, son," Zed says, his bedside manners impeccable if he could say so himself. "That bullet might have punctured yer lung, talkin' ain't a good idea right now. Just lay back and let me do all the work."

He puts the patient under as he readies what little equipment there is but he's worked with less before, and pauses just briefly to consider if he'll just do more harm than good... and quickly dismisses the notion. Nothing a little invasive surgery can't cure. He'll be patched up in no time and on his way out. It's doable. The patient's loosing blood at an accelerated rate and Zed's sure the patient isn't completely knocked out, but he knows he has to work quickly.

What serves as a scalpel hovers hesitatingly over the wound and Zed takes a deep breath. Time to go to work.

The scalpel had barely cut through more than a quarter inch of flesh and Zed pulls back when Patricia Tannis barges in through the door. He looks up from his work, blood beading up from the incision under his scalpel and pooling neatly down his patients abdomen, and sighs. That woman always knows how to ruin a good thing.

"Crawled outta yer cave for a visit, I see," he smirks to himself and focuses back on the patient. "I can't help what _you_ got, so ya can't be here for medical attention. What can I do ya for?"

"_Doctor_," she says acidly in that condensing tone she adopts whenever saying the title and he imagines that if he were to look up, she might even be mimicking quotation marks in the air. "I've come to this mockery of what you call a surgery room because you have been clearly ignoring my messages requesting the documents I require in regards to my previous experimentations with the Siren called Lilith. I'll have them now and make it quick, I want to leave before the reek of ignorance and decay starts to cling to my skin."

"I'm a bit busy as you can see here," Zed gestures at the patient with a free hand, blood speckling his apron at the motion. "Go look at test tubes or whatever ya call science and come back another time."

"Don't trouble yourself," Tannis peers over at his desk and starts shuffling papers around. "I think I can manage shifting through this wanton chaos myself. I wouldn't want to take the chance you might feel useful."

"If that'll git you outta here, be my guest," Zed shrugs, ignoring the jibe and continues his work.

The woman gets under his like like nothing else can and Zed resists the urge to stab something being that having a stab wound on top of a bullet wound wouldn't help the patient at all. Tannis doesn't come around often and he thanks his lucky stars for that, but whenever she does it's never a pleasant visit. She thinks she knows everything just because she has a hoity-toity degree on a planet somewhere he doesn't even care to know and rubs his face in it constantly. Usually he'll exchange words with her until he's red in the face but at the moment, his patient matters most.

Zed pushes the thought of Tannis out of mind and focuses on trying to find the bullet in the bloody mess of muscle and sinew. He was starting to worry that the bullet was in too deep or had maybe shattered against a bone somewhere when a loud _thump_ brought his attention back to Tannis. Zed glances up to find her dumping out the contents of a drawer onto the floor behind his desk. She's gone too far now.

"The hell you doin'?"

"I am simply trying to navigate this disorder in a more efficient way because you apparently have no understanding of how to organize a competent filing system," she says delicately past her shoulder and pulls out another drawer. "This is actually quite an improvement now that I think about it. You may thank me later in a three page letter delivered to Roland. Perhaps I'll even read it." Tannis picks up one of his notes and eyes it critically. "But if these scribbles are in fact your actual attempts of writing and not what I had first assumed were cavemen drawings, I might not. Oh, well. It's the thought that counts anyway."

Now that tears it. Zed puts down the scalpel and slowly makes his way around the operating table. He's not sure what he can even say to top her this time, but he's going to do something alright to shut her up.

Tannis, maybe sensing his movement behind her, turns and gives him a wary eye. "I thought I made it clear your assistance isn't necessary," she snaps.

"Oh, I think ya do," Zed says and steps closer, noticing the way she visibly stiffens against the table. That's an interesting reaction, he thinks. "I'm a doctor, so I know these things. Lemme give ya hand."

"I suggest maintaining the minimal distance of –" she begins to say but falls silent when he steps into her personal space.

Zed can't help but grin behind his surgical mask when her fingers knot at her sides, the paper clenching loudly in the silence. He was finally getting to her and he's going to drag this out as long as possible so she knows he's not one to be screwed with, medical license or not. He leans in impossibly closer still to peer over her shoulder at the mess on his desk, and he loves the way she holds her breath, clearly disgusted at having him so close but not risking the chance of physical contact to push him away.

"Well, lookie here," he says smoothly, trying to keep from laughing. He reaches past her and she's close enough to gasp in his ear for a fresh breath of needed air before holding it in again. "Your notes were right there all along. How 'bout that?"

"You can thank me later," he continues and holds up the folder between them. Tannis makes a small sound as her fingers close over it and he thinks she might be choking. "Snap out of it woman, what is it?"

"Your patient has expired," Tannis manages to say with a satisfied smirk curling her lips, apparently coming out of her panicked silence. "This one would make the second one this week, yes? Well, you can't save them all I suppose. Or at least... someone with a real medical license could."

Zed turns and confirms her observation. Well shit. He's dead as a doornail alright. He had completely forgotten all about the surgery and damnit, this one actually makes the third one this week but he'd never admit that. Tannis snorts out a little bubble of laughter and something inside him snaps at that moment. He doesn't think. He _can't_ think because this is the last straw. He just yanks down his surgical mask, bloody fingertips streaking down a cheek as it goes, and does the first thing that comes to mind that will finally make him win against this woman.

Zed turns and in one swift movement, tilts her face up and brushes his lips against hers.

Her lips part under his, more out of shock than want, and the manilla folder drops from her limp grasp, spilling its contents at their feet. He takes advantage of her hesitation to deepen the kiss and _hot_ _damn_ her mouth is just as sweet as he imagined it would be if she'd just shut up. Her hands slide slowly up to rest against his chest, humming softy in what he thinks might be pleasure and just as he decides he doesn't care about winning anymore but rather if that desk is sturdy enough for something more than clutter, she gives him a solid shove that forces him to step back a few paces.

They both catch their breath when they part and for a long moment, Zed can't think of anything to say and neither does Tannis as far as he can tell. He's just as surprised as she is, he thinks. Sure he's thought she's nice to look at and maybe even interesting when she can tone down her pretentious attitude... but he never would've thought he'd like to kiss her. And not more than once. She presses a hand to her lips, bloody red smears bright against her skin from where he touched her, and he's sure she's going to start raving at him any moment.

"You –" she begins to say before making that strangled sound again and he thinks she might be gagging. "Touched... mouth," she says and mumbles something incoherently before throwing up her hands in some kind of gesture.

"Yeah," Zed snaps, getting the gist of what she's trying to articulate and his forgotten annoyance starts to make a comeback. _Goddamn_ this woman drives him nuts."Yeah I kissed ya. I'll kiss ya again if you don't get out."

Just as he realizes how ridiculously childish he sounded like, Tannis leans against the desk as she gulps in a deep breath and shakes her head.

"I don't think empty threats will be necessary," she says finally, her fingertips finding her lips again. "That wasn't as unpleasant as I thought it would be. I think... I think we need to try that again, Doctor." And this time, she said his title without it's usual sting. Imagine that.

Zed slowly starts to peels off his gloves. If a kiss has _that_ effect on her, he plans to go all out and have a pleasant week. Time for a full check up, he decides. Medical license or no medical license, he sure as hell can play doctor with Tannis.

* * *

**Notes:** I'd like to remind all of ya that I'm open to suggestions for whatever pairing so drop me a review with what you like and I might give it a try. Thanks for reading!


	8. Karima & Dave

**Rating:** M  
**Warning(s):** Some cursing, and gore (maybe a bit graphic)  
**Character(s)Pairing(s):** Karima/Dave and all in Karima's perspective  
**Setting:** Overlook, set after the quest line The Overlooked: Medicine Man. If you haven't done the whole string of missions to it, you're going to be spoiled.  
**Notes:** A reviewer suggested this pairing and it was kind of hard to think of something for characters that you don't know too much about, but I like how this turned out. A bit long, honestly had way more, but decided I shouldn't waste too much time on such minor characters. Love it, flame it – I don't mind! Enjoy!

* * *

Karima awoke to the sound of someone shouting her name.

For a whole ten seconds, she thought nothing of it. Just her imagination. Sometimes... she still thinks her husband is just in the other room, calling her name after all. Karima, he'd call, and ask her to check over something he'd be working on those long nights where he stayed awake long into the early hours. She didn't always mind because she was glad he valued her input, but sometimes in that sluggish stage between dreams, she still wakes up to the sound of his voice asking for advice.

And sometimes... _just sometimes_... she still wakes to the sound of his screams when the grinder started chewing its way up through his feet.

"Karima! I know you can hear me, woman! Open the door!"

Karima sits upright in her bed because this time, it wasn't the half remembered voice of her husband calling out to her, but the voice of a man who should be dead just the same.

"Dave," she whispers in the darkness and for one heart stopping moment, she thinks she's gone mad. There is no way he could have survived the mortar blast or the fall after. It's just not possible...

But the insistent banging echoing down from the hallway says otherwise. "C'mon, open up! _Karima_!"

She slips out of bed and hastily throws a robe on and hurries down the stairs, pausing only briefly to turn on a light and pull open a cabinet next to the door where she keeps her ammo supply. Her fingers shake as she counts out what she has left and nearly slip as she loads the shotgun she keeps by the door, but she's not afraid. Karima never took Dave for a violent man; ignorant and annoying as hell, yes. But a man whom she blew away not hours ago wouldn't be especially happy to see her. If she has to finish him off, she's ready for it.

She switches on the ECHO device on the door and pauses, suddenly unsure. Just what do you say to a man you thought you murdered? "What are you doing here, Dave?"

The banging immediately stops and she thinks she hears something slump heavily against the door. "I'm inna bad way here, Karima. And being that my house done got blown offa _cliff_... I could use some help."

Not liking where this was going, she grips the barrel of her shotgun tighter. She intentionally tried to murder the man, why would he come to her of all people? "Why do you think I would want to help you?"

"_Dammit_, wom–" he grunts out in pain and for several moments, only the sound of his labored breath was heard through the silence. "I'mma die right here at yer door, Karima. Just... sit down and decorate yer doorstep. I ain't asking for no apologies or nuthin'. And I ain't givin' any! Just need some help an' I'll be off."

She briefly thinks having a corpse on her doorstep might not be such a bad thing. It'll keep away solicitors, that's for sure. And it's not like she can leave whenever she likes so she'll hardly ever have to kick it aside to walk past it... Karima sighs and runs a hand through her hair. No. No, she can't do it. It's one thing to kill a man so indirectly and not blink an eye, he _did_ have it coming after all... but it's another thing entirely to listen to the man breathe his last breath on her doorstep, knowing she could've helped.

"Fine," she says after a few more moments of indecision."Back away please, I'm opening the door. I'm armed, so I suggest you behave."

There was a scuffle at the door as Karima undid the many locks held in place and she readied herself for whatever might happen. She slowly opens the door for the first time in what feels like years. Briefly, she thinks of the moment she ran out so long ago to watch her husband die and likens the sight of Dave, battered and bloody, to what little remains she was given after her husband's death. He doesn't look pretty.

Dave leans against her mailbox clutching his right hand to his chest and she's surprised to see it still attached by how badly mangled it looks. His face was a map of scratches and fresh bruises, blood running freely down his scalp and down one ear. The stench of sweat, blood, burnt fabric and something else half familiar comes off him in waves until she notices the light sprinkle of rain beading his forehead and making the blood run thinner. She spares half a glance up into the dark moonless night and the rain starts to fall just a little bit faster. It's been a long time since she's smelled the rain, she thinks. Shame she had to open the door to the worst sight imaginable and ruin what would've been a good thing.

She doesn't tell him he looks like hell, he already knows. Instead, she says the first thing she can can think of because life can have a passing strange kind of cruelty to it all and she truly wants to know how some people are allowed to just keep living when so many aren't.

"How are you still alive?" Karima sighs as she mentions him to come in and she's just as disappointed as she sounds. For _one _whole day, she had a Dave-free existence and it was as good as she always imagined it would be.

Dave coughs wetly as he shuffles inside and she thinks he might be laughing."Y'know how it goes... the good die young an' all that shit."

And he's right, she thinks as she turns on yet another light to see him more clearly. He definitely looks beyond her capabilities to help, but he's still standing despite everything. Assholes never die.

"Let's see what we can do about your hand."

* * *

She couldn't save his hand.

It sits in a bowel on her kitchen table like a gruesome flower arrangement, blood congealing nicely in a tidy ring, and she wonders if blood can stain porcelain. Could she use that bowel again? No, not likely, no. She's been staring at it for the past half hour, unsure if he'd be insulted if she'd just toss the whole thing outside for the stalkers to nibble at. Karima spares him a glance on the makeshift bed she made for him on the couch and decides he's too far gone to care. His face is pale from the blood loss and a fever had set in leaving a fine sheet of sweat on his brow, but he looks alright after she cleaned up the superficial cuts. Vaguely, she worries she might not be able manage dragging him outside should he die on the couch.

Dave had passed out before she could saw through the bone, and a part of her was thankful for it. His screams didn't make it easier. She tried her best to see if the hand could be saved, but it was smashed so badly, she was sure he could never use it again. It was nothing but a mess of bone and flesh after all. She's not medically trained and she hardly has enough medication to help strive off infection, but she thinks she did an alright job...

… _f__e__r a woman_, his voice reminds her mockingly in her mind, and she's glad he screamed as much as he did after all.

Quickly, so that none of the Hyperion cameras would notice, she tosses the hand outside in the rain as far as she could and keeps the bowel.

* * *

Dave slept on and off for the rest of the night and long into the rest of the day until his fever finally broke while the rain raged on outside. The worst was over and it looks like he'll recover and Karima's not entirely sure if she's relieved or not. The whole time he slept, she listened to his light breathing over the rainfall from her bedroom, shot-gun nearby. It's been too long since she's had anyone in her home and the sudden change in her routine made her feel uneasy and restless.

"You can stay as long as it rains," she says when he finally sits up on the couch. "It stops, and you will leave. Is this understood?" He'll stay as long as she can stand him and not a day longer.

Dave hisses in pain as he caught himself trying to wipe the sleep from his eyes with a hand that's no longer there, and nods. "Yeah, I hear ya," he grunts and slowly gets to his feet. He doesn't thank her and she doesn't expect him to. "Where's yer bathroom?"

Dave was a tall man, and fit as any of them could be considering their shut-in lifestyle. And from what little she could remember before being confined in their homes, he had a confident swagger in his step; shoulders back and straight. Now, he haunches over and cradles the stump of what was his hand against his chest and a part of her pities him. Just a little.

But not enough.

Karima doesn't regret what she's done to him, not in the slightest, but she thinks he at least deserves a bit of a break after surviving such a fall. Like he had said, he doesn't need an apology and she doesn't need one either. There's an _understanding_ between them now, she thinks, and she's glad he's been civil so far. She's only a woman, yes... but she isn't a woman to be taken lightly anymore and Karima's sure he knows it too.

"Down the hall on the left," she says and makes her way into the small kitchenette. He'll likely want something to eat. She picks out what she's come to call 'his' bowel and wonders if she'll tell him his severed hand was recently in it while he eats. "There's a fresh shirt hanging on the door. Be careful not to get blood on it, please."

Without another word, he limps slowly out of her sitting room and she decides to pull up the shutter of her kitchen window just a crack. She keeps one ear on the sound of the rainfall and hopes it'll end before the day is done.

* * *

It rains for another five days and nights. Just her luck that the rainy season came early this year.

"It's improved," Karima says at the ugly stitch work she made of his stump, but it's clean and healing nicely and that's what matters most. She tries not to touch him more than she has to as she wraps up his arm with fresh bandages. "I'm..." she struggles to find the right word. "...glad."

Yes, that sounds about right, as strangely as it seems.

The last few days have been... _strained_... but not entirely unpleasant. Dave didn't bother much. A few words here, a few there. Mostly when she checked his wounds and distantly polite, yet gruffly indifferent just the same. He never looks straight at her when he speaks, but she neither does she. It was... different. She guesses even a man as intolerable as Dave can learn when to shut up and be humbled. And he's had a _very_ humbling experience. A woman nearly killed him. A woman sawed off the dead hand he couldn't. A woman healed him, and a woman taught him some manners.

She hears him curse in the bathroom sometimes as he dresses. Senses his tension when he struggles to feed himself left handed. Being suddenly crippled of his dominant hand, she understands his frustration and despite all that, she thinks he's handled it well. She finishes wrapping him up and for the first time, really looked at his face as he slumps back in his seat. The bruises are fading into an ugly yellowish color and she's sure the gash on his brow will leave a scar, but he's not particularly bad looking. Not good looking either, just average. It's funny, that. Before, when all she heard was his voice, she thought he looked like a skag's rear end.

She follows his eyes and they land on the end of his stump. "I imagine it feels strange," she says quietly, not exactly sure why she's bothering with small talk this time but she's curious enough just the same. "Missing your hand, I mean."

"You tell me," he laughs lightly eyes still on his wrist, like a man who's seen the craziest thing and can't explain it."I'm drumming my fingers right now an' I can still feel it."

Karima doesn't know what to say and somewhere in the back of her mind, she wonders if he hates her. Strangely, after all that's happened, she doesn't hate him as much as she used to. She took his insulting remarks for a long time, peaked, and killed him. And that was that. Now, she's not entirely sure how she feels about it all. She tries not to think about it.

"I'll get dinner started," she says just to say anything at all.

"Naw, don't bother," he says and slowly stands. "I'll handle the cookin' tonight. Jus' show me where all the stuff is an' I'll be set."

"It's no bother," she blinks, confused. "I can cook –"

"But'cha ya _cain't_ cook, Karima," he shakes his head with a chuckle. "Been eatin' your food fer days an' I can tell ya that. Never met a woman who _couldn't_. Don't worry now, I got this. Now where's yer cutlery?"

Karima's jaw drops as he starts opening a few drawers in the kitchen, and she's speechless. She's always known she's not very good in the kitchen, and thankfully, her husband never minded. But she had thought that the man could at least say so a little bit more delicately than that after all they've been through.

"If you're sure, go ahead," she says when she regains her composure. "I never met a crippled man who can cook, it's bound to be interesting."

"Damn right I can," he laughs, and she can tell he's genuinely smiling by the way the little wrinkles gather at his eyes. Not the least bit insulted at being called a cripple for the first time. "Momma always said I could cook with one hand, lessee if she was right. You just go on and sit back, paint yer nails or wutever. Watch the master at work an' ya might even learn ya somethin'."

Karima nods, and this time, tries not to take his last remarks too seriously. He seems sincere in his own way, and sure, it wasn't exactly put politely... but maybe she's always taken him too seriously before. It doesn't excuse some of the downright insulting things he's said in the past, no. But maybe, he's just always needed someone to dish it right back.

"Be careful, we wouldn't want you to lose a finger. You don't have many left," she reminds him and decides a manicure while she waits might not be such a bad idea.

"Oh, yer _funny_," he grins as he finds the utensils. "How'd that happen?"

She small smile starts to curve her lips and she laughs trying to contain it, because suddenly it's all rather amusing since she's not exactly sure either.

"You fell off a cliff," she says simply, and knows it's somehow true.

"Yeah..." he chuckles and for the first time she can recall, he meets her eyes from across the room. "Yeah, an' I fell into some _sense_."

For a long moment, she says nothing because it's the closest thing to an apology he's ever said and she's not quite sure what to say. Suddenly, the silence feels too complete and it was hard to figure out just what was missing until she noticed the rain had finally stopped, only a few drops hitting the windowsill much too loudly.

"I'll be outta yer hair in the mornin'," he says, correctly following her line of sight and turns away to look through the cupboards once more. "You jus' relax tonight an' enjoy this meal, y'hear?"

"You can stay," Karima says without thinking and she knows that's somehow true as well. This rainy season went faster than she would've liked and she's gotten used to him, she thinks. It's been too long since she's had something close to a friend around and she's gotten used to that too. "At least for a little longer till you get a place to stay permanently."

She watches the way his back shoulders still for a moment and he nods, "So long as I do the cookin', I don't mind."

"I'd like that."

* * *

**Notes:** Thanks or reading! Dunno when I'll next update, but usually when I get good ideas for pairings I can work with, I seem to update faster. So drop me a review and keep giving me ideas!


	9. Tiny Tina & Brick

**Rating:** M  
**Warning(s):** Cursing, some violence (non-graphic), and sexual situations (non-graphic)  
**Character(s)/Paring(s):** Maya/Roland, one-sided kiddie crush Tiny Tina/Roland, Tiny Tina/Gaige friendship, Tiny Tina/Brick romance, and just a lot of freaking Tiny Tina all in her perspective.  
**Setting:** The first part is set before the second game. Tina's about eleven or twelve and Roland's just starting his relationship with Lilith. I'm vague with all that happened in the five years from one game to the next because I don't want to contradict cannon that might still come to light. Just nod and pretend I'm right and we're good. The second part is a little after the mission _A Train To Catch, _if you haven't done that, you have no idea who Tiny Tina is. Stop reading and come back when you finish the game. _-waits- _Back? Good. The third part is years after the end of the game and she's twenty years old.  
**Notes:** Just as a heads up – towards the end of this chapter, Tina will have aged considerably and she might seem just a _little_ out of character. When you're my age (twenty-four), you_ know_ you don't talk or think the same way you did at thirteen so please keep an open mind to a bit of character development and try not to hold it against me. She's a woman, not a kid anymore, but just as crazy and twice as deadly. Tina was a bit hard to write since her speech patterns vary a lot, but I tried my best. Lemme know what you think, yeah? Love it, flame it – I don't mind! Enjoy!

* * *

"So, ah... Tina," Roland says and there's a small smile curving his lips, almost shy and pleased all at once and she wants to slap it off his face. "I know I've mentioned Lilith before but you two haven't been introduced so... here she is."

"Hi, I'm the girlfriend," Lilith laughs and gives a little wave and Tina's mind is screeching at the _nerve_ of this bitch showing up with her boo, bold as hell and twice as smug. "It's great to finally meet. Roland's told me a lot about you."

"All _g__o__o__od_ things I trust," Tina simpers in the most pretentious way she could manage. There's no need to be impolite to Bitchface Hugetits, Tina knows her manners of course. She's the most gracious host she knows, which granted – aren't many people – but that only shows that most people just shouldn't be allowed to have company in the first place. "Daahling, we must discuss politics and economics over brunch one of these days. You'll simply _ado__o__re_ my crumpets!"

"Oh, okay," Lilith says slowly, giving a sideways glance at Roland before hitching up a smile. "Uh, sure! That'd be –"

"Roland?" Tina cuts Lilith off with a gesture. She can only put up with so much buttcrap after all. "I wish to speak to you for a moment. _Alo__o__ne_?"

"Sure," Roland needlessly agrees since she's already closed her hand over his and tugs impatiently towards her workshop. "I'll be right back," he assures Bitchface and Tina thinks he shouldn't make promises he can't keep since she doesn't plan on giving him back. That's just rude and not nice at all.

"I'll just... wait here?" Lilith might have said but Tina had already slammed down the door to the workshop for some much needed privacy.

"Something up?" Roland leans against her work table with that same goofy smile on his face and Tina marvels at how clueless he can be sometimes.

"_You're seeing other __**people**_!" Tina bursts out and slumps down onto her bed. "This ain't an open relationship here and bringing yo _bitches_ up into my crib–"

"Tina!"

"– just ain't cool," she finishes and tugs at her hair and tries not to look so hurt, but she _is_ and she's not quite sure how to handle it all. "This 'bout her huge bazongas, right? Boy, 'cause if it is, you just wait. These bee stings _g__o__nna get swole_ –"

"_Tina._"

"I am a budding flower that's gonna _friggin' __**blossom **__Roland_!"

"You done?" Roland says a little harder now, and she tries to ignore the burning in her cheeks by worrying a hole at her knee instead. He sighs and she listens to the fall of his step as he crosses the short distance between them and sits by her side. "I'm not with Lilith because of the... size... because of your chest."

"Looks like it," she sniffs, yanking out a stray string. "I thought what we got is special," she adds quietly.

"_It is._ Look, you're jealous and I get that," he says and she hates how he's not _listening_! It's not that she's jealous, well maybe a little, but more about the fact that he belongs to _her_ and he should know this by now. "But I like her and uh... I want to see where it goes."

Tina swings her feet and wonders where it'd go if she'd kiss him right now.

She's thought of it before sometimes. Sometimes, she imagines the way he'll pick her up and the world would turn just right and he'd kiss her like her parents used to kiss in the kitchen before breakfast, soft and slow. Other times, she'll be the one to kiss him first and it'll be fast and intense like lighting the fuse on a stick of dynamite and it might blow in her hands any second but she'll never want to let go. She doubts his first kiss with Bitchface could even compare to that.

He shouldn't be kissing Bitchface Hugetits, she decides. Not when he hasn't kissed her yet.

"You know you're my number one girl, Tina," he says and his arm slips around her shoulders, pulling her into a hug and she feels her initial irritation start to melt away just a little. "But I need you to be my friend right now."

"M'kay..." she nods slowly and looks up at him, wondering if just _maybe_... "_**But**__... _only if you kiss me." This is their first fight, right? Usually, that ends with a kiss.

"_That _I can't do," he says much too quickly and she's not sure what the big deal is. She likes him, he _says_ he likes her, what's the problem? Kissing shouldn't be this complicated! "Maybe I –"

"Then I bid you a good day sir," Tina drops back into her pretentious drawl once more. "I'd see you out but I'm a very busy girl with a demanding _scchhedule_." She tries to pull away from his embrace because every moment she stays there, the more something inside her hurts and she can't stand it much longer, but his hold on her tightens and pulls her in closer with a soft laugh.

"Didn't let me finish," he says and she shrugs, twisting the string between her fingers now. He's just talking buttcrap now, there's no need to listen anymore. "I was _gonna_ say... that maybe I'll kiss you when you're old enough to enjoy it," he continues and she tries not to smile too widely at that. "That is... if you'll want an old solider and if you're still my friend."

She couldn't imagine a moment she wouldn't want him around. He's only person that can take her at her worst and that's a liberating kind of feeling. She can get why he can't be her boyfriend now, the neighbors are sure to talk of course, so she's willing to compromise. In the end, Roland was worth it.

"A'ight boo," Tina says finally and knots the string around her middle finger. "_This_ –" she gives him the finger "– is a promise that ah'lls wait for yas."

"Alright, bet," Roland chuckles and gives her one last squeeze. "Now go out there and make friends with Lilith, you'll like her. I know it."

Tina doubts this but she'll give it a try nonetheless. He's going to be her fist kiss after all. She springs off the bed and yanks the door up to find Lilith looking curiously at a snowman Tina had built with grenade mods and pop-sickle sticks and grins in the chummiest way she can think of.

"I gots the teapot. You get the table ready. We's gon get friendly up in 'ere."

* * *

"Youda one with the robot, right?" Tina says and eyes the so-called Mechromancer critically. She didn't look like much and Tina expected a huge mutherhumping robot that would've brought Wilhelm to tears, but nope. No robot. Where the hell does she keep it at? Her butt?

Gaige shops at the ammo dump machine Tina keeps just in the off-chance she'll ever run out of grenades – which is _never_ – and nods. "Yup, that'd be me," she picks up a mod from the drop-box and equips it.

"Lemme see iiit! No, nonono wait. You gon like dis," Tina dives under her bed and pulls out a toy box. Her fingers skim lightly over the white bunny decorations and she smiles. "How 'bout I show you mines if you show me _yo__oo__urs_..."

"Alright, you've got my attention," Gaige grins and kneels down at her side. "Whad'ya got there?"

"Just a lil' somethin' I's been working on," she chuckles and opens the box. Inside where four neatly placed windup baby dolls with their own hand-held remote detonators. "I call 'em... _Tiny Tina's Baby Shakers_! You wind 'em up like thiiis..." Tina turns one over and winds up the gear aggressively before setting it on the ground where it starts to crawl off on all fours with a grating crying sound. "Aww, ain't he just cute? It's remote detonated so you flip the switch and _boom biotch_! No mo' baby."

"_That_ – is awesome okay," Gaige laughs and picks up the baby doll and inspects the wiring on the explosives. "Actually... wow, this is really nicely done."

"Spank you very much," Tina dusts her shoulder off, pleased with the praise. "Mah _loove_ babies get a lot of attention. Bandits love 'em too, y'should should see the _lo__o__ok_ on their faces 'fore they get blowns up! Now show me your robot!"

"Sure," Gaige sits back on her heels and with a simple gesture of her hand, the mother of all robots materializes into Tina's small room. "I call him... _Deathtrap_." Gaige adds dramatically.

Tina slowly circles the robot to see it from every angle and the longer she looked at the lovely hovering death machine the more she wanted to touch it and it was getting harder and harder to contain herself. That sleek metal, those vicious looking claws, the funny tailbone and just... _Gah_!

"Can I touch it? _Pleasepleasepleaseplease__**pleeease **__**can I touch it?!**_" Tina bursts out, holding her hands just inches away from the robot with her best smile.

Gaige laughs and nods, "Sure, gimme a sec." She flips open a compartment on her robotic arm and a holographic keypad swam into view. Her fingers swiftly ran over a series of numbers and a metallic whirring sound came from the robot. "Aaand there. He's safe t –"

"_**Yes**_!" Tina went one step farther and hugged the cold steel instead. It was awkward, hardly cuddly, and smelled a bit of bandit blood, but that made it a million times better and Tina liked all of those things anyway. "Mmmf! I love him! Oh – idea! We gots ta have... the best slumber party _eva__aa_!"

"Do what now?"

"You, me, Deathtrap... awww yeah. Slumber party, gurl," Tina jumps up and hangs on Deathtrap's arm now, testing his strength. "We's gonna visit the neighbors and blow them up," she goes though a checklist she made on the spot. "Have us a fiiine ass tea party with _all_ my crew." Tina made mental note to invite Lord Muffinhug Puddinpants this time around, he'll be insulted if she doesn't. "Get matching tatts..."

"Yeah, I dunno about that last one," Gaige laughs and Tina thinks they'll cross that bridge when they get to it since _someone_ is going to get inked for sure. A slumber party just ain't a slumber party without it. "But yeah, sure. I'll sleep over."

"Yes! I'll go gets the tents," Tina skips off and Gaige follows after her.

"Tents in a slumber party?"

Tina stops suddenly and frowns pensively, unsure. You think there _would_ be tents... but she's not sure if they're usually needed to have a proper slumber party since she hasn't had one before. "_Aren't_ there tents?"

Gaige shrugs with a grin. "Screw it, we'll have tents. Who says we can't have any, right?"

"Oh, I likes you," Tina says and she means it. It's not often she warms up to people so quickly, robot or no robot. "You gets deh special pillow."

This is going to be one motherslapping hell of a slumber party.

* * *

Tina spams the remote detonator in her hand and counts each and every blast in her mind. It's not activated to anything – not yet – but it's a calming pastime imagining bits of rock and wall bursting apart into tiny pieces and falling from the sky like dusty rain. It's a cascade of gray and white and red and yellow and she loves the way the little pieces of everything just dusts her hair like snowflakes; each explosion unique and beautiful.

She looks over at Brick doing what he does to pass the quiet moments – pushups – no surprise there, and she thinks that if she'd try hard enough, she could smell the testosterone in the air. Maybe it'd smell like steel chains and leather. Briefly, she tries to remember how Roland smelled like and wonders if she'll always compare every man in her life to him. Brick's not that bad though. Aged well; a few more lines and scars here and there, but Tina's grown to like them over the years. In fact, she's grown to like a lot about him and no matter how much she tries to fight it... a part of her begins to lust when she watches him kill.

In the heat of a fight, his eyes catch hers. Focused. Intense. His blood lust infecting and mingling with hers into a beautiful downpour of debris and blood and she feels... _alive _in a strangely satisfying sort of way. The pull of the pin, the impact of flesh on flesh, his husky laughter and the hollow click of her launcher is the only kind love they know how to make together and it's almost like a drug. Afterward, when the ringing in her ears stop and he wipes the blood from his hands, he looks at her and there's a certain kind of _understanding_ between them, she thinks. The _need_ to do what they do. There's a harrowing kind of freedom in finding someone who compliments you so completely so they clutch to it and it keeps them somewhat sane.

So maybe... that's why she fights that growing pull of attraction since she's grown to wonder if her childhood crush was just that. A crush and nothing more. And the thought scares the ever-living shit out of her because accepting that means she'll have to break her promise.

Her eyes wander and land on the once orange string still wrapped around her middle finger, now faded a soft peach over the years and she thinks it's about time she's had her first kiss. Roland would've wanted that, even if it couldn't be with him because with every day that passes and every ear shattering explosion to dull the monotony, one day, she'll stop being lucky enough to survive here on Pandora and it's pointless to wait on the dead.

Tina sets down the detonator and thinks it's now or never. She's not the same girl she used to be and her past crush is from another era of her life. Now, she's ready for her first kiss and she's spent too much time working up the balls to do something about it and too little time doing anything else besides. She wants him and very little has ever stopped her from getting what she's wanted before. This is no different.

"Oh, _Briiick_," she calls, deciding to sit on her old tea-table to get a better view of his face and before she can lose her nerve, she says the very first thing that came to her. "Why we haven't we hooked up yet?"

There's a short pause where Brick slows his movements before he barks out throaty laugh. "Where'd that come from?"

Tina decides not to say because a question isn't an answer and then shit just gets redundant. Besides... it's not like they're not practically a couple already. She's spent more nights than she can remember sleeping at his place never more than a few feet away at the most. The slabs have even started calling her the Slab Queen and she's never bothered to correct them and neither has Brick. They're two sides of the same coin and have been for a long while now and she can't imagine why they haven't taken things a step farther.

"Nuh-uh, I asked _you_ a question first," she says and tries not to get distracted by the way his muscles flex with every pushup. _Dayum_, he a beast.

Brick goes down another two more times before stopping altogether and starts working off his bracers, a habit of his she's noticed after a work out. His steps are slow and his lips curve into a wicked feral kind of smile she's all too familiar with; a look before a kill. He drops the bracers into the seat and she bites the inside of her cheek as he plants those tree trunks he calls arms on either side of her thighs.

"The thought's crossed my mind," he says and she watches the way his eyes inch over her, pausing only briefly at her lips before catching her eyes again. And Tina's... _surprised_, actually. She never did blossom like she always thought she would. Still tiny with narrow hips and sporting a sad A cup. Not particularly beautiful either, but then... neither is Brick. "But I think I'd break ya," his voice drops into something gravelly like rakk ale over ice and she tries to keep from squirming when a strange heat settles in her belly. "Think you can handle me?"

Tina bites down harder and tries to think of something to say. Anything to say. Something witty or even flirty. But she's never been that kind of girl and everything is just a jumbled mess and somewhere in the back of her mind, there's a scratch of a matchstick as a fuse is lit.

"Hells yeah," she says finally and she hopes she doesn't sound as intimidated as she feels.

Brick chuckles softly and a hand strong enough to snap her neck tilts her chin up and the world doesn't just turn – _it stops_ – when his lips close over hers.

And boom. Fire.

He picks her up off the table and her legs automatically encircle his waist, arms draping over his broad shoulders. Tina runs her hands over every muscle she can reach, excited and nervous all at once, and she never thought she would've liked it, but when Brick grabs her ass and gives it a firm smack, she moans into his mouth as the pain melts away into a soothing heat. Her fingers stumble as she tries to work down the zipper of his vest because every inch of him she's not touching is screaming for her attention. It becomes increasingly more difficult to do when his mouth, hot and heavy, works its way down to her shoulder and she gasps when he bites down hard.

She feels weightless and hadn't even noticed he's made his way into her room until he sets her down on her bed and is on top of her in one fluid motion, never once breaking away from her lips. The mattress is old and the frame creaky, not especially grand, but it'll do for now. Brick pulls a way briefly to work his vest off his shoulders and Tina takes a breath to point out the obvious flaw in their little situation.

"We gonna need a bigger bed," she says and he laughs before catching her lips once more.

* * *

**Notes:** Readers, the impossible has happened. I wanted to add in Tiny Tina/Mr. Torgue somewhere in this since a reviewer mentioned it... and I couldn't. I just could not write the explosive awesomeness that is him. And even less so in a romantic setting. Yes, many of the pairings I write may be considered crack pairings, but the whole theme of my one-shots is that they _must_ come off at least a bit believable and natural despite the circumstances because these aren't parodies and I _could_ _not_ make it work. It's mainly what took me forever to update and I'm sorry for that. Tis a sad day for fanfiction indeed. Maybe the next time I write Tina (or Moxxi because why the hell not), I'll pair them with him. Till then, I'll tape my caps lock down and practice.

Also, I'm probably going to write Gaige/Scooter again sometime soon. Not sure yet. It's like a weird itch I can't scratch. Sorry ahead of time!


	10. Gaige & Scooter part 2

**Rating**: M  
**Warning(s):** Cursing, mentions of nudity, sexual situations (hopefully not too graphic), and hilariously awkward enough to maybe hate me a little.  
**Character(s)/Pairing(s):** Gaige/Scooter, a brief mention of Lilith/Roland and all in Gaige's perspective.  
**Setting:** Takes place the morning after chapter three of my one-shots. If you can't recall what happened there, be sure to click that chapter menu button and check it out again.  
**Notes:** So I caved in and wrote my OTP again. For some reason, I felt incredibly guilty doing so because I think it's hardly popular but after reading a few reviewers suggesting it again, I figured that's all the convincing I really needed. Also, I've decided to make this paring unique and actually give it a second part since it takes place right after the last one-shot I wrote of them. In fact, I think out of all the parings I'll ever write in this, they'll have their own kind of little story. Not sure how many parts I'm going to write... but I'll be sure to continue it every several chapters or so. Don't worry, I'll still write a crap load of different parings in between to change it up. I haven't decided on my next chapter but it might be Gaige/Axton or Axton/Captain Scarlett. After that, I might brave some slash/fem-slash since I'm lacking in that department. Love it, flame it – I don't mind! Enjoy!

* * *

Gaige wakes up in stages with slow, deep breaths.

Little sounds from outside gradually work their way into that sluggish stage between dreams and she starts to recognize them one by one. The wind kicking up a tin can in the alleys of Sanctuary. The low murmur of distant voices as people go about their day. Ordinary sounds she's woken up to nearly every day on Pandora. Nothing new there. She hopes Axton won't get the wild hair up his ass to wake her up early.

She shifts into a comfortable warmth against her back and a hundred little aches and pains make themselves known. Great, she probably slept on her left arm all night. It's totally awesome, sure, but not especially comfy. Gaige stretches with a yawn that soon turns into a hiss of pain as her knee knocks into something metallic. She rubs the pain away and something soft lands lightly on her bare right shoulder.

"Mornin'," a familiar voice mumbles thickly against her skin and Gaige snaps out of her drowsiness.

_Scooter_? How did he get in here? Gaige slowly to looks past her shoulder and finds Scooter flashing her a sleepy smile as he kisses her skin once more. She narrows her eyes and tries to remember just how the hell this is happening and impatiently waits for her memory to kick in. Her mind feels slow processing all this so early and after a few moments, it all comes back to her in fuzzy disjointed fragments.

Scooter pulling his shirt over his head above her as she hurriedly shimmied out of her skirt. Cards arching between her fingers and the six of spades fluttering under her seat. Her legs parting at his touch and the flash of his smile in the darkness. The sound of her laughter as he admitted he once had a week-long facial tic after licking a stactus plant on a dare. A tipsy kind of backwards two-step and his hat hitting the floor as she nearly beheads herself getting into the van, leading Scooter inside by his belt...

That's right. She's not in the HQ. She's in a makeshift bed with a nuts and bolts patterned bed sheet in the back of the van Scooter had stripped parts out of when she had first met him.

Strange how the night goes.

And stranger still that she doesn't particularly regret it. At least... not yet.

"Hey," she croaks out and fuck her throat is dry. Hoping to get comfortable again, she lays flat on her back... and faces the biggest pornographic collage she's ever seen stuck to ceiling. Scooter's probably taped every nudie mag and pin-up they've ever collected for him and decided to decorate what could very well be his man cave. "_Wow_," was all she could say.

"Yeah... yeah, ah shoulda warned ya 'bout that last night," he frowns at the ceiling, head propped up on one arm. "That one right there looks a bit like you, huh?" He points at the ceiling and sure enough, if she tilts her head a _bit_ to the right...

"No," Gaige knocks his arm down with a laugh. "Just... no."

"Jus' a tiny bit from behind being that ah _would know_," he winks. "Real thing's _waaay_ better though."

"It better be," she smiles and vaguely, she thinks that waking up next to a guy for the very first time would be much more awkward than this but it's not, far from it really.

Maybe it's because it's _Scooter_ of all people and compared to him, there's really nothing to feel awkward about. Or maybe, her mind is still nicely foggy from the drinks last night and the reality hasn't kicked in yet. She tries not to think about it. Instead, the bed sheet tightens snugly around them as she pushes him on his back and straddles his waist with a kiss.

She remembers this now. The sudden movement makes her head swim a bit and everything comes back to her a little sharper with her lips against his. His arms encircle her waist, fingertips mapping out secret patterns against the small of her back and... still no regrets. She smiles and with one last kiss, pulls back and stretches comfortably, her fingertips just brushing the ceiling.

"What?" She manages to say mid-yawn as she watches a strange look come over his face.

"Nuthen'. Jus' y'know... waitin' fer ya to ah dunno..." he shrugs beneath her and she's never seen him look this serious before. "Take a bite outta mah neck or kill yerself or somethin'."

They both know what he means by that and Gaige laughs even though there's nothing to really laugh about. He's had a bad streak with crazy chicks and maybe Gaige is just another level of crazy, but he doesn't need to worry about that with her.

"It's too early for that, _but_..." she leans down and bites his collarbone with a loud '_nom_'. "I think I might –" Gaige pauses, noting a few angry red scratches that run over his shoulder and disappearing down his back. They favored one side which means her left hand did most of the damage. "Ouch. Sorry."

"S'alright," Scooter laughs. "That ain't nuthen, _you_ – you was kinda scary. And hella strong! Not that there's anythin' wrong with uh... strong women."

Gaige stares. She remembers some of last night, but not all and it was kind of worrying. "What exactly did I do?"

Scooter drums his fingers on her hips, as if trying to figure out where to start. "_Wee__e__ll_... fer one, you were inna hurry. Couldn't get mah clothes off fast enough – lookey there." He shifts beneath her and she looks past her shoulder to notice he still has his shoes on, one pant leg tangled around an ankle. "An' gosh dayum you a filthy talker! Sayin' shit like, 'fuck me while Tannis takes notes' or wutever an' ah think you maybe bumped yer head on the ceilin? Now, you didn't say nuthen so ah–"

"Stop. Stop. Just..." Gaige sighs and runs a hand over her face, completely embarrassed. _Have __Tannis take notes_? Where the hell did she come up with that one? "Gawd, it sounds sloppy and hardly sexy and –"

"Pffft, it _was_ sexy! _You_ were sexy. It was messy, buck wild drunken sloppy sex an' I loved it," he says and she had to smile a little at that. His hand slips off her hip and slide up her midriff, his calloused fingers making goosebumps break out against her skin and she forgets what she was so embarrassed about in the first place. "An' the sounds you made? _Mmm_... hot enough to make the devil sweat. Jus'... beautiful."

"You weren't bad yourself," she laughs at that as her fingers play across his chest and she spots something she hadn't before; a tattoo of a heart in red ink with her trademark anarchy '_A_' etched with what obviously had been her left fingertip. "I don't remember this."

"That's gonna scab over in no time. Don't worry 'bout it."

"No, I mean the tattoo," she explains, although she does feel a bit bad for carving him up like that. Just a little. "I think Ellie told me once that only Hodunk _women_ get branded with this."

Scooter shakes his head with a slight frown. "Yeah, _that's_ a long story, mhmm. Don't think ya wanna hear it an' two guys end up dead, just like... in cold blood. Ruin the mood an' all."

"Oh c'mon," she threads her fingers through her hair now, pulling out her messy pigtails. "It's not like you were a chick once or anything, right?"

"Oooh... guess it's a _short_ story then."

Gaige freezes, unsure if she had heard that right. "What?"

"Yeah, girl..." Scooter's brows meet in confusion. "We talked 'bout this last night, you were totally cool with it, remember? Talkin' 'bout how you were always down fer new things an' stuff."

"No – _what_? I don't... is that even _English_? No." That can't be possible. It isn't. No. She can't have been _that_ drunk. Gaige slips back onto his hips and reaches down to find...

"_D__ick_! Yeeeah!" Scooter laughs harder than she's ever heard him and she hates him right now.

"Scooter!" Gaige slaps his belly and he bucks little, his laughter momentarily stiffed before it started to infect her as well. "Why – why would you _do _that?" She snorts out in little bubbly laughs.

"Ow – why you always gotta hurt me?"

"Why do you have be an idiot?"

"Yeah... well, ah'm an idiot with a nice dick," he smirks and she can't argue there.

She stretches out against him, her feet tangling up in his; eyes level with his tattoo and smiles. "Okay... so how _did_ get that tattoo?"

"Alright, see what had happened was... ah was maybe... fourteen or somethin' an' these two –" Scooter stops, as if listening and a momentary stab of panic cuts into her chest when she hears the upstairs door swing open as well. "We's got company," he hisses. "Should ah act all natural like or..."

"_Shh._"

"Gaige? You in here?" It was Salvador.

And Gaige is naked. With Scooter. In a van not a hundred feet away.

"Shit," Gaige whispers and slides off Scooter. "Get down," she nods at the blanket and towards the end of the windowless part of the van as she hurriedly tries to find her top. The van gives an obvious squeak with every single movement and she winces. "Fuckfuckfuckfuck."

She had only just managed to get her top on by the time she heard Salvador's heavy step on the concrete. Having no idea where her skirt or anything else is, she settles for covering up her waist in the bed sheet and lays back as nonchalantly as she could manage. To complete the look, she absently picks up a nudie mag. She's screwed already, right? Might as well have something to look at to keep from making eye contact with Salvador.

"Gaige?"

"Yeah, I'm here," she calls out and checks to see if Scooter's visible. She feels his breath at her hip, and tries to ignore the tingle it gives her. Salvador leans against the car door, and Gaige thanks her lucky stars that he's too short to look all the way in. "What's up?"

For a long moment, he just looks at her and she can practically hear the gears turning in his head, adding two and two together and she hopes she's not blushing as brightly as she thinks she is. Maybe it's just the panic at being caught naked, but his eyes travel just a little _too_ slowly over her, taking in her hair and rumpled shirt.

"You missed breakfast," Salvador says finally.

"Ha, yeah. I um–" and Gaige gasps as Scooter kisses the side of her thigh, making her leg jolt at the sensation. "Wasn't hungry."

"You been gone all night," he continues and slowly surveys the room. She feels his gaze land on her again and she tries to focus on the magazine in her hands but none of the women were especially appealing so maybe she flipped the pages a bit faster than any regular porn reader would. "You _naked_ under there?"

Shit.

"What... ah... gives you that idea?" Gaige manages to say as innocently as she can. Another kiss, this time slower, begs for her attention. A hot little trail working its way into the inside of her thigh and she clenches her jaw to keep from making any sound, leg still trembling.

Salvador reaches for the side rear view mirror, and comes away with something red and silky and... just so happens to be her panties. Perfect. At this moment, killing herself was sounding pretty good right now. And fuck, keeping her hands away from Scooter was making everything difficult. He kisses higher into the apex of her thighs, and she clamps her legs securely over his ears, keeping him away from what will surely make her lose her shit. His breath washes over her as he laughs silently and –

"You caught me," Gaige bursts out. "I just _really_ like –" she checks the porno cover quickly "– _Naughty_ _Milk_ _Maid Digest_ and had a moment. I'll take those," she reaches for her panties with as much dignity she could muster and Salvador hands them over with a laugh.

"You crazy, chica," he starts to step way and Gaige relaxes a bit. "When you done with your moment, come back. That bird man got somethin' on the Warrior. We headin' out today."

"Right," Gaige sighs and she remembers she can't lay here in bed for as long as she wants because outside this garage, there's a rebellion to win. "I'll be over in a few minutes."

Salvador nods and half way up the steps, she hears his footfalls pause. "Adios, Scooter!"

"Catch you later, man – _ooh _crap_,_" Scooter sucks his teeth, catching his mistake, and Gaige groans. "Yeah… ah wasn't supposed to say that, huh?"

"_Bye_ Sal!" Gaige shouts out this time and the last thing she hears is Salvador's chuckle as he closes the door behind him. Great. Sal might gossip, or at the very least, tease her endlessly. Can't she like... keep this to herself for ten friggin' minutes here? Is that too much to ask?

"_So_..." Scooter pulls off the ridiculous bed sheet and gives her a sheepish grin. "Guess ah'll help you find yer clothes. Ah recon you maybe kicked yer shoe off an' it got stuck up in the rafters. Gonna need to getta broom fer that."

Gaige sighs. Of course, where else would it be?

* * *

She dressed quickly, not because she wanted to get the hell out like she would've first imagined she would, no. But because they spent several minutes looking for her sneaker only to find it sitting on top of the van to begin with. In fact, she wanted nothing more than to hang around for a little while longer since the idea of firing a gun with a raging headache wasn't looking good at the moment. Gaige was sore, hungover, and maybe just a little bit hesitant to go. She hasn't forgotten Roland after all.

She ties her shoes and glances up at Scooter, leaning against the side of the van and smiles. And maybe... she didn't want to leave him either. He hasn't dressed all the way yet, just in his pants, and she thinks his farmers tan was adorable in a funny sort of way. No, he wasn't the hottest guy in Sanctuary, but she could've definitely done worse.

"So..." she stands, suddenly feeling self-conscious now that she's dressed. Gaige isn't altogether sure just what she's supposed to say now. Thanks for the sex? Let's do it again sometime? It was pretty confusing since she doesn't know how much had changed between them and she's afraid to ruin things by saying anything at all. "I guess I'll see you later?"

"Yeah," Scooter nods, flattening out his hair as if he missed his hat. "Jus' uh... drop by whenever."

"Sure. Sounds good," Gaige says, unsure if it's a real invitation or because not seeing him at all is unavoidable given the circumstances. She zips up her vest and starts to make her way up the stairs. "Later."

For a moment, she thought that was it until she hears the fall of his step rush up the stairs behind her.

"Listen uh... Gaige?" Scooter makes to grab her hand, but instead seems to think better of it and holds the railing instead. "Ah wanna know... are we like a couple or somethin'? Ah mean, s'cool if you don't wanna." He stuffs his hands down his pockets now and she tries hard to keep from smiling. "Ah won't like... spiral into a depression an' write more bad poetry if you don't – well maybe the last part – but... ah really like you. An' it ain't like sex was the only thing I liked, an' _s__weet titty-fuckin' Jesus_ did ah like it so... are you my girlfriend now?"

Gaige hesitates, unsure if she really wants this. Right now, she's on a brutal planet far from everything she knows and cares about and fighting in a rebellion she might not win. Every time she leaves Sanctuary could be her last. She remembers how Lilith once admitted to not liking the fact that Roland ended their relationship just so they could focus on the Crimson Raiders, and a part of her gets that logic. It's hard to promise anything at all at a time like this.

Gaige takes a moment to think about it. But just a moment. She can't imagine missing out on something that can only make everything worth the trouble in the end. Roland had made that mistake. She won't do the same.

"Yes," she says and pulls him in for a kiss. "Can't _believe_ I'm saying it, but yeah. I'm your girlfriend, Scooter."

He sighs in relief. "Great 'cause ah wasn't sure if you were gonna go rakk-shit crazy if ah send you flowers later," he winces suddenly. "Ooh crap, jus' pretend it's still a surprise an' we're good."

"You don't have to send me flowers," Gaige laughs. "Just be here for me when I get back."

"You give that Warrior hell fer me, y'hear?" Scooter drops a kiss on her shoulder. "An' tell me all 'bout it when you get back."

"I will," she promises and now, thinking back on all her doubts after Roland's death... having someone waiting for her makes doing what they do so much more important. Sure, it doesn't make it any less dangerous, but now she's got another reason to end this for good. "Later!"

And Gaige leaves without any regrets and hopes no one will notice she's got her shirt on backwards in the meeting.

* * *

**Notes: **So I've got quite a few PM's asking about my writing and I've decided to make a tumblr post in response because it's quite a bit I need to answer and decided that I might as well make it public. Check it out here at evvie-foxx DOT tumblr DOT com /post/ 41748775828/ a-post-for-readers if you're interested. Just remove the DOTS and spaces and it should take you there. I hope to update... maybe by the end of this week. Maybe. Thanks for reading!


	11. Axton & Sheriff

**Rating:** T  
**Warning(s):** Cursing, some violence and a little gore (not too graphic).  
**Character(s)/Parings:** Axton/Sheriff of Lynchwood all in Axton's perceptive with a hint of Maya/Axton on the side. Gaige, Salvador, Zer0 and Deputy Winger make a small appearance as well.  
**Setting:** The first part takes place before the game begins when Axton was just a gun for hire, bounty hunting on Pandora. The second part takes place in New New Haven (later named Lynchwood) in some random bar. The third takes place in some mysterious location where Axton's getting beaten by bandits, a scene from one of his ECHO's you can find in Lynchwood. The fourth and fifth take place during the mission _Showdown_, if you haven't done that yet, you're going to be spoiled.  
**Notes:** This took way longer than it should have and the only excuse I have for not updating in so long is a bit of writers block, new video games, and life. I'm sorry, but it happens and I get distracted easily. I know I said this chapter would be Gaige/Axton or Axton/Captain Scarlett but after tying different things, it wasn't going anywhere so I decided to pair him with the Sheriff instead. Anyway, since it's never stated exactly where Axton went after he went AWOL (just the "border planets" in fact), I decided to go ahead and make it Pandora. The timing is vague and I'm not even sure if it can fit or not, but meh. It's a one-shot I probably won't expand on anyway. Call it AU if you like. Love it, flame it – I don't mind. Enjoy!

* * *

"You are one ugly son of a gun," Axton says when he toes the bandit at his feet onto his back. He's checked the ropes more than enough and thinks they'll stay secure. Axton crouches down and reaches into his pocket to pull out a creased bounty poster and holds it up to the bandit's face. "'Ed Nasty'," he reads with a chuckle."'Wanted alive for murder, arson, banditry, and poor hygiene.' Quite a list you got here Ed."

Ed apparently didn't seem to appreciate being called out on this and spits at Axton's face. "Go fuck yourself!"

Axton wipes the spittle off with a grimace and reminds himself that killing this guy isn't an option. He's wanted _alive _– no exceptions –and he'll have spent the better part of the week tracking him for nothing if he dies. He needs this first bounty hunt to go well and Ed's lucky he's broke or else he would've buried a bullet in his skull for the trouble. Instead, he drops an elbow onto the bandit's face with a satisfying crunch and a cry of pain.

"Up you get,"Axton grunts as he pulls his captive up by the sweat stained collar. "Let's get going. I wanna cash you in before happy hour."

The bandit nearly trips over the rope Axton used to bind around his ankles in a modified hog-tie, but he's able to walk and that's what counts. This is the first live capture he's ever done and so far, it's going smoothly. Tracking him wasn't easy, but he hopes the trip back won't be too much of a hassle. He's got a runner outside and enough rope to tie him up in the gunner seat. If it get's too complicated or if he tries to run, he'll knock him out.

Axton takes hold of the bandit's tied wrists and tries to navigate though the mess of fallen bodies that littler the room. The only light illuminating the place came from a small fire burning in a garbage can in the far corner and what little washed in from under a threadbare blanket nailed over the doorway. The place stank worse than the bandit and Axton was anxious to get out of there. With a solid yank, Axton leads the cursing bandit towards the exit and his reward.

The heat rises in lazy shimmers in the Dust and hits him like a wave as soon as he steps outside. Axton squints away the brightness and hardly has a moment to adjust before a single gunshot shatters what confidence he had in making it to happy hour in time. Blinking away the sunlight, his vision clears to find a solitary figure of a woman sitting astride an armored skag dressed in a cowboy hat and duster despite the heat, gun still pointed at the skies, and Axton marvels at how complicated his life can turn so quickly.

"Friend of yours, Ed?" Axton grins, not taking his eyes off the woman and he thinks she'd be pretty if she wasn't waving that gun around. "You sly dog..."

"I see you've made my job easier," the woman says as she levels her gun in his direction. "I'll be taking in that bandit and I'll be on my way."

"Is that so?" Axton grins and casually inches his hand towards his holster. "And who are you supposed to be, the sheriff?"

"Yeah, let's go with that," her lips curl into a thin smile. "Now hand him over and I might not blow that grin off your face."

Axton considers his options. His turret is cooling down, the gunfight just minutes ago with the rest of the bandit's gang burned a hole through his ammo supply and he's not sure how many shots he has left in the pistol at his hip. His back is against the wall with no cover nearby and she has the upper-hand with mobility. Things don't look good. So he does what he always does in a tight spot.

Keep talking.

"I got another idea," he says and his fingers brush the handle of his gun. If he could land _one_ shot, even if it just distracts her, he can make a quick dive behind his runner and use it for cover while he reloads. "How about we _both_ turn him in and split the bounty? We'll grab a drink and laugh about this later."

"Oh, this isn't about the bounty, Commando," she says as her skag impatiently paws at the ground. "I just like to see them dance at the end of my rope. That's all the payment I need."

"Do I get a say in this?" The bandit behind him volunteers, and Axton tries hard not to elbow him in the ribs.

"That's too bad..." Axton says slowly and grips his gun. It's now or never. Just _one shot_ is all he needs. "I was looking forward to those drinks."

In a span of two seconds, four things happened: Axton draws out his gun. Three shots ring out in quick succession and Axon barely has any time to register who's they belong to. His gun is shot out of his hand. And a blinding hot flash of pain rings against his left ear.

"Sonova_bitch_!" He clamps his hand against his ear and finds it sticky with blood. It's still there, but the cartilage is torn where the bullets pierced through. "_Is that all you got_? You missed!"

"I never miss," she calls out as she tugs at the reins about-face and spurs her skag into a trot. "I'll let this slide this time, Commando. Don't get between me and what's mine again."

Axton turns to look behind him just in time to watch his paycheck slump down to his knees, two bleeding holes right below his eye. Axton kicks the corpse pointlessly before stooping to pick up his gun, blood dripping off his neck and all over the sand. He slams more bullets into the revolver but she's too far gone to even make the shot even if he wanted to; riding off and cresting over a sand dune like some cowboy of legend.

Four days. Four days he's spent tracking that bandit and it's all undone in the span if three minutes. Maybe less. Axton's had one hell of a week. Fuck it, he might as well head back and maybe talk his way into a bar tab. There's always some other wasteland asshole he can track down and from now on, he'll make sure bringing them in alive is optional.

"Shit," he mumbles as he wipes the blood off his neck and makes his way to the runner. Axton barely takes three steps before he notices how low the runner is sitting; the tires slashed sometime after he parked it there. That bitch. "Just ain't my day."

* * *

Axton throws back his glass and swallows the bitter liquid the locals pass for booze and wonders how much longer he's going to stay on this planet. He's been here for little more than two weeks now and he expected a bit more action around here for being one of the border planets. He's fallen into a routine since he's been here, he thinks. And for a man like Axton, that wasn't a good thing.

He drinks, he sleeps, he hunts down some dipshit bandit, and does it all over again until the money runs out. If things don't change, he might wake up someday a raging alcoholic curled up next to a skag with no memory of what happened the night before. In short: he needs more excitement. Axton sets down his glass and decides he'll turn in early for the night since he's got little else to do at the moment to pass the time. He counts out the rumpled, slag slobbered and blood splattered bills and before he has the chance to pay, a cowboy hat slaps down on the counter at his side.

"Gonna buy me that drink?" A half-familiar voice says and Axton looks up to find the woman who nearly shot his ear off sit down next to him at the bar.

Axton spares her a good long stare at the sheer amount of balls this woman has. "Didn't catch that," he cocks his notched ear pointedly. "You expect _me _to pay for your drink?"

"Well, aren't you bitter," she says, as if they're old pals. "I thought we'd laugh about all that."

Briefly, he thinks he should just leave and track her down some other day to get her back... but when his eyes catch the lovely amber of her eyes and travel down the slope of her neck... well shit. It's been far too long since he had some good looking company and it'd be just a shame if he cut it short. Fuck it, he's bored and it sure beats sleeping.

And so, he laughs and hails the bartender instead. "Two more over here."

"So, I take it you're divorced," she says, her eyes picking out the diamond ring around his neck. "You look the type."

"Roguishly handsome?" Axton supplies and nods his thanks as the bartender wordlessly slides over two more glasses.

"Desperate," she corrects and he has to smile a little at that. "There's a lot of desperate men here in Pandora all running from something. What are _you_ running from?"

"My ex – isn't it obvious?" He jokes carefully, and that much _was_ true. He's not sure how far Dahl's reach goes nowadays, especially since Pandora is mostly under Hyperion control, but he hasn't seen a wanted poster with his name on it yet. "So what's your name, or should I keep callin' ya 'sheriff'?"

"It won't be long until I _am_ sheriff, might as well get a feel for it," she says with a small tilt of her lips.

"You must be new here," he grins. "Sheriff Youngblood runs New New Haven and I don't think it's a big enough town for _two_ sheriffs."

He's shared a drink with the old sheriff and his deputy, a man called Winger, quite a few times since he's come to this place and they're on friendly enough terms. Youngblood might not always like it when Axton cashes in his bounties dead than alive, but he gets paid nonetheless. They're fair and decent folk, or as far as anyone can be here on this planet.

She laughs lightly at that. "I won't handle bandits with kid gloves like Youngblood does. They break the law, they hang. Simple as that. He's gone soft and I'm the sheriff people need around here. New New Haven …" her eyes scan the room with a disgusted curl of her lips "... needs a new name. A new start. And I'm the woman to make it happen."

"A lynching every day, huh?" Axton sips his drink slowly. "Sounds like you need more hobbies."

"Looks like you need more too," she downs the rest of her glass with a flick of her wrist. "You've been moving in on my territory. Seems like you've gotten the hang of my trade and you're crossing off every wanted man before I can hang them."

Axton considers her over the edge of his glass and briefly, he wonders if she's going to make this a problem that needs to be solved with a bar fight. Her hands are resting on the counter top, legs crossed, her shoulders set nice and relaxed... nothing hints at anything especially threatening and he assumes she's simply making conversation. Good. He'd hate to ruin his night this early by beating a woman.

"Guess I am," he says finally and finishes his drink as well, just in case.

"I suggest we correct that," she continues and he's not liking where this is heading. He's not going to stop since it's going good so far for him and being a gun for hire is all he knows.

"How so?"

"Partner up," she says simply and slips on her hat. "I've got a few leads and I haven't killed a man in two days." She leans slightly closer and he can smell the soft scent of liquor fresh on her lips. "You take the cash, I'll take their lives. Deal?"

He's gotten himself in some pretty tight situations wandering the wastelands of Pandora alone and he could sure use the company. He'll have another gun on his side and she's a mean shot since he knows from experience. It's not a bad offer and besides... she's good-looking enough to look past her murderous streak.

"Alright, but I'm not riding a skag," Axton says flatly and offers his hand.

"We'll see," she clasps his hand firmly as she stands. "Thanks for the drink, I'll meet you outside. We're burning daylight and it _has_ been two days."

"Just one last thing... we're totally gonna fool around after this, right?" He's pushing his luck and he knows it, but there's nothing wrong in hoping. She _is_ pretty hot after all.

She pauses mid-stride and her head tilts in such a way that he can barely make out a smile curving her lips. "I have a boyfriend."

That wasn't a no, and that's a good thing. "Question still stands."

"You're cute, Commando," she says. "I like that."

* * *

They worked well together.

He'd shrug off her sass, she'd tolerate his annoyances and they had a working partnership where they both got what they wanted from each other. He got paid, she'd hang the bastards, and if they sometimes wanted to fool around on the side with no strings attached, they'd do that too. They didn't talk about the boyfriend she visited for days on end where he'd get bored out of his mind waiting for her to come riding back into town. She didn't bring up his wife again and in time, he grew to stop thinking of Sarah too. And if he sometimes did, he'd make sure to dull the memory of the woman he used to love by learning every inch of his new partner's body.

Everybody wins.

At least, that's what he thought until he woke up out of his daze and found himself tied up to a chair with a pair of nasty bandits they'd been tracking. Two lowlife thieves by the name of J-Dog and Barrowman with a nice price on their heads each. It was supposed to be an easy job. They'd shoot their way through the ramshackle encampment and identify who their targets were by the bodies. No spectacle lynching, no one gets tied to the back of her skag and dragged for miles as she occasionally likes to do. The Sheriff had different plans, and the dull ache at the base of his skull told him she had knocked him out and fucked him over, leaving him here to die. And for _what_, he's not sure.

A solid blow to the gut winds him and he groans, everything momentarily going dark until the room swims back into focus again. Something – a hand – gropes at his neck and turns Sarah's ring in the light and Axton pulls back, yanking it out of the bandit's grasp.

"What's that ring ya carryin', pretty boy?" The one called J-Dog sneers.

Axton takes a moment to catch his breath and think. His arms are tied behind the chair and he shifts slightly as if in pain to check if he can reach his tomahawk on his left side and he feels the sharp edge catch on the rope. It's doable. Might take some time, but he'll do what he always does and find a way out: keep talking.

Later, when all this is over, he'll want some answers from the woman who calls herself Sheriff.

* * *

A spray of bullets tear into a charging psycho and Axton reloads before the body hits the ground.

"That's the last of 'em," he says and steps over the corpse.

The Main Street of Lynchwood is silent except for the low rumble of an incoming train that's long stopped pulling into the station. Nothing but the wind whispering though the alleys and he wonders what became of the place before it turned into a breeding ground for bandits. It used to be an alright town despite the Eridium mining operations going on for Hyperion. Wasn't as safe as Sanctuary, it still being mostly lawless and all, but it wasn't this bad. He remembers stepping off that very same train after going AWOL and thought it was a good place as any to start over.

The Sheriff's voice rings throughout the empty streets and solves that mystery. A lot's changed since that day the heard the Hyperion Truth commercial and left town. He never did find her like he hoped he would so hearing her voice now brings back all the resentment of her betrayal. He never would've thought she'd come back, but she did, and hell followed after.

"Are you alright?" Maya asks at his side. "You've been… off today. Like you're somewhere else."

"Nothin'," he says evasively and tires to fish around for an excuse and comes up dry. "Just wanna get this done."

"Alright," she nods and leaves it like that. "Ready to take on the Sheriff?"

"Thinking about doing it on my own," he says. He's been giving it some thought since the first time he heard her voice over the speakers and he wants to handle it himself. It's fitting that way. She left him to die, and now he can return the favor.

"Sure about that?" Maya asks quietly as they make their way through the tunnel towards Gunslinger's Corner. "It seems risky going out there on your own."

"More like stupid," Gaige falls into step at his side, delicately flicking some gore off her arm and sure, that may be true, but stupid ideas that's never stopped Axton before. No point in stopping now. "You _did_ hear the whole puppy killing story, right? She's friggin' crazy."

"I just wanna talk to her first," he says without thinking and realizes that it's true. He wants to know why she screwed him over and it's been eating at him all day. Maya's brow rises in question and he decides to lay his cards on the table with a sigh. If he's going to go though with this, they're going to find out anyway. "Me and the Sheriff? You could say... we have a little bit of a history." A still silence falls between the five of them, and even Zer0 looks over at him as if waiting for further explanation. "It's kinda complicated and –"

"So you two fucked?" Salvador says with a growing smile.

"Alright, not that complicated at _all_," Axton admits, faintly irritated despite the fact that Salvador wasn't that far from the truth. "Look, long story short – she left me for dead and I've got a few words for her is all. I'm going in there alone, feel free to back me up if things get hairy. End of discussion."

Gaige tisks. "You screwed a puppy killer. I expected better from you. Wait... wait, no. I expected just that."

"In my defense, I had no idea she killed any puppies." And he didn't. Axton always knew she had a sadistic streak in her, sure, but he's always had the reckless tendency to not care in the slightest. Who she was, what she did before, even her real _name_ didn't matter. He didn't even know she was dating Handsome Jack of all people. They did other things to pass the time than talking about themselves.

Maya rolls her eyes. "And would that have stopped you?"

Axton gives it some thought, and apparently thought for too long because Maya makes an exasperated sound and brushes past him. "Oh c'mon! She's hot as hell, can't blame a guy for banging that! I had _needs_, Maya."

"Yes, you needed to sleep with a puppy killer," Maya shoots back and he doesn't get what the big deal is. It's not like_ he_ killed it.

"_You_ –" Axton bites his tongue and instead says what always helped smooth over things with his ex. Having been a married man for a while, he's learned that sometimes, arguing with women never gets him anywhere. "You...look pretty today."

"Uh-huh, sure," Maya says indifferently, but he can tell she was pleased about it nonetheless with that small curl of her lips he's grown to like.

"Hey, I'm pretty," Gaige whines teasingly with a twirl of her hair.

"Tell me I'm pretty too," Salvador grunts.

If Handsome Jack could hear them now...

"Yeah, yeah, you're all freakin' pretty," Axton absently points in their general direction. "And before I forget," he turns to Zer0 and briefly wonders if he'd gut him for saying it, but decides to go head anyway before Zer0 feels left out. "_Y__ou_... are the prettiest of them all."

"Are you all done yet? / We've yet to plan our attack. / I am getting bored," Zer0 says flatly after a long stare down and Axton thinks Zer0 could stand to humor him just a little. A _bit_ is all he's asking.

"Right," he clears his throat and scans the street ahead of them, judging the cover and the buildings. "Zer0, find a vantage point. Rooftop on the right would do fine. Maya, join him. Gaige? Sal? Stick to the left alleys, I want her flanked in case I'll be walking into an ambush. Sounds good?"

There's a murmur of agreement between the five of them as they start to break away and Axton briefly checks his weapons. He knows the Sheriff uses a trigger-less hand cannon of a revolver and the last thing he needs is to run out of ammo or get into a jam while she's firing away. Satisfied, he makes his way out into the deserted street and hopes this won't be the last stupid idea he'll ever make.

* * *

She spots him coming halfway down the street from her perch high up on the sheriff's station rooftop and he feels her eyes on him every step of the way. His hand sits on his holster, ready just in case and everything in his body feels on edge; aware of every little detail. The crunch of the gravel below his boots. The infectious little melody of the skag chew machine loud in narrow street. The smell of blood and sweat on his clothes. Axton keeps his eyes head, locked on the Sheriff's silhouette on high.

Axton stops in the middle of the street and takes in his surroundings. Several of the Sheriff's Marshals line the street, Deputy Winger among them, and he exchanges a look with the man he once knew. Winger had always been loyal to this town and maybe when the sheriff's badge exchanged hands, he continued to serve as the deputy to help in whatever small way he could. Briefly, he wonders what happened to Youngblood and hopes he didn't suffer much. He was a good man.

"You're either really brave or really stupid showing up here without your bandit friends," the Sheriff calls out from above. "Turn them in and maybe I'll let you go for old time's sake."

"Funny, that's what I wanted to talk about... old times," he says and tries to think of a way to say what he wants to say without coming off whiny or as desperate as she always said he was or... shit he doesn't know. "Why'd you do it?"

She cocks her head slightly, as if confused or simply measuring him up and she slips a hand slowly into a breast pocket. His fingers tense against his gun but all she pulls out is a sheet of paper, folded up and tattered around the edges. Wordlessly, she straightens it out and tosses it down, the wind turning it lazily in the air before coming to rest at his feet.

It was a warrant for his arrest. Not the fresh and cheerful Hyperion yellow he's seen everywhere he goes since he got on Handsome Jack's bad side with an impressive bounty on his head, no. But a military issued Dahl green with every detail about him. His last known whereabouts, several photos, his every crime... everything on that creased piece of paper. Sometime during their partnership, she had found this and he wondered how long she battled with the knowledge that she was working with a wanted man. The very kind of man she hunted down mercilessly at the end of the day.

And she kept the warrant after all this time. "How long did you know?"

"Long enough," she answers. "Y'know... I just couldn't kill you myself. Maybe I should have because we're right back where we started."

"It don't have end like this," he says, although he knows it's the farthest thing from the truth. He might not know her name, but he knows that she's a prideful kind of stubborn woman and saying how pretty she looks isn't going to fix things this time. "Get out of town while you can."

"You're cute, Commando, but you keep getting in my way," she smiles then, it's small and nowhere near as sweet as Maya's, but it's _hers_ and he hasn't seen it in a long while. He's going to miss it. "This is my town and I'm not going anywhere. It's too bad we can't be on the same side."

He wants to keep talking and put off the inevitable, maybe find out where she's been all this time or ask for her real name. Maybe ask her what she sees in that Handsome Jack-off and why she couldn't kill him before... he wants to say a lot of things. But he doesn't. Sometimes there's just nothing else to say.

Instead, he draws his gun and hopes he'll still have what's left of his ear after this.

* * *

**Notes:** So I'm going to try some slash or fem-slash in the next chapter be warned to skip it if that's not your cup of tea. Not sure who I'm going with but I'm leaning towards Maya/Lilith. Don't know when I'll next update, like usual, but I hope y'all come back for the next chapter! Thanks for reading!


	12. Captain Scarlett & Shade

**Rating: T  
Warning(s):** Some cursing and minor violence.  
**Character(s)/Pairing(s):** Shade and Captain Scarlett friendship all in Scarlett's perspective. It could be considered romantic if you make your own assumptions and squint.  
**Setting:** This takes place after the Captain Scarlett and Her Pirates Booty dlc. If you haven't completed it, you're going to be spoiled. Also mentions other dlc's, but just in passing.  
**Notes:** Been a while updating. Skyrim dlc's took over my life, and for that, I am so sorry. Then I suffered severe writers block over the Maya/Lilith femslash I promised and I honestly could not deliver this time. It's hardly polished and I'd rather not let my writing suffer for it. Trying to make a break through my block, I looked through the reviews and found this pairing suggested. I suddenly belted out 2k words in a few hours time. This chapter is seriously ridiculously long by my standards. Don't know what my problem is. Still working on it though. It'll be my first femslash ever so I guess I just want it to be perfect. Anyway, sorry for those that were itching for that one. Here's this instead. Love it, flame it – I don't mind. Enjoy (if you can, I am SO sorry guys).

* * *

The few times they've spoken had been brief, Scarlett guesses as she pulls her sandskiff into the once paradise town of Oasis. Hardly a real conversation outside of petty insults and a few threats, really. Mostly on her part and never face to face. Always shut up in that shack of his as if a thin sheet of metal could have truly stopped her. He wouldn't face them of course, being just one man against so many. She'd lead her crew into town, help themselves to the well water, and they'd be on their way. They stopped coming after the well ran dry and sometimes, she wonders if she should've given him the choice to join her crew or die. Passing by the numerous corpses in the center of town, she thinks a quick death would have been kinder than the slow death of dehydration.

Right now though, she's lost her ship and is no longer a captain of anything since the Vault Hunters had laid waste to her crew and she's grateful she hadn't killed the lone man who makes the silent town his home. Her escape from the Leviathan hadn't been easy and she walked miles to reach a Catch-A-Ride station in the scorching heat. Scarlett didn't dare come near her ship in the off-chance the Vault Hunters had decided to have a little cruise party to celebrate their good fortune. Making an appearance no matter how desperate she is wouldn't be the smartest move at the moment. It's a known fact not many pirates make it into old age without erring on the side of caution and she's been a pirate for quite a while.

The sound of music carries on the hot breeze as she makes her way to the shack and she wonders why he still remains. Can't be the people being that they're all either dead or sand pirates. The ambiance maybe, she decides. There's something to be said about the cloudless skies, the lazy heat, and the whole expanse of everything just swallowing you up. Before the drought, people used to call this place a tropical Shangri-la of sorts. Scarlett likes to chalk that up as a matter of opinion since she prefers the vast empty canals and lakes where water once flowed. When the light hits the sands just right, the whole canyons light up like rivers of gold.

The music rises in volume as she reaches the counter and for the first time, finds the shutter open. Glancing at a pair of sandaled feet propped up on the counter, she guesses he's asleep; chair tipped back and hat pulled low over his face. This is the first time she's seen him in person and she's ever so slightly disappointed by his choice of wardrobe. Who wears a fisherman's hat where they're no fish to be found? Scarlett fights the urge to pluck it off his face and throw it away somewhere, trash maybe, and struggles to recall his name. Is it Sherman? Shay? _Is _Shay even a man's name? No, can't be that but here's definitely a '_sh_' in it somewhere she's sure.

"Hello there!" Scarlett bangs smartly on the counter with her hook and startles Sherman – or maybe Shawn – from his nap. "I don't think we've been properly introduced, have we? You've always slunk away in here every time I've visited. Of course I've always come round pillaging all you have left to survive, but let's leave that behind us and start over shall we?"

He slowly adjusts his sunglasses to see her better against the sunlight and for a moment, she hopes he'd save her the trouble of guessing his name and introduce himself. Instead, he lets out a strangled shout as he scrambles out of his seat and bangs the stutter down on her hook. Her whole arm vibrates at this and she knocks the radio to the floor with the shriek of metal on metal as she fails to pry it up. A few inches is all she can manage, and she thinks she might be stuck. Very stuck. She tugs pointlessly and it doesn't give way. She didn't have a set plan on what exactly was going to happen when she decided to drop by, hopefully intimidate the hell out of him, but this changes everything now.

"That isn't any way to treat company now is it?" She says pleasantly while fruitlessly struggling with her predicament. The sound of movement comes from the other side and she wonders what he's up to. Getting a weapon? Making his escape? Both likely. "I'm unarmed," she adds, and that much was true. She had dropped her gun in the Leviathan and she doubts she'll ever get it back. Damned Vault Hunter thieves. "Open this up and let's be friends for the moment, yes?"

A short silence follows and she thinks she might have won him over, and easily too. "I am quite comfortable like this, thanks," he says finally and Scarlett curbs her temper. That's fine. This will do until she can convince him to give her some information. Finding out where the Vault Hunters are and what they did with her treasure would make this all worth it. Water would be good too, but that _could_ be asking too much. She'll see how it goes.

"So, you are very much alive," he continues lightly and almost disappointed, as if merely remarking about something half unpleasant like a hangnail he'd have to file down and damn it all, wouldn't that be such a bother. "That is not good."

"Mmm, yes. Very unfortunate business, I'm afraid. Just a sloppy mess, really," Scarlett leans against the counter to ease the strain on her arm. "I was _so_ _sure_ I'd reach the treasure before the Vault Hunters did. Shame that. After all the trouble I went through to find the treasure in the first place, you'd think I'd get some sort of metaphorical reach around."

"Well, this is awkward since I'd have to disagree," (Shelby?) says with a strained sort of laugh and there's another sound through the shutter. Something opening and closing. A click of a latch. And the unmistakable clinking of bullets hitting the floor. Ah, a gun. How lovely. "You see, I would call that karma for pillaging our town and _nearly_ leaving us all to _not _die of thirst."

"'_Us_' you say?" Scarlett narrows her eye, thinking. His new friends still here? No... everyone's either dead or gone, she's sure of it. Perhaps he'd really gone round the bend like she's always suspected. She decides against broaching the subject of his mental stability, very rude really, and instead tries to be as honest as possible. Mostly. "Like I said, unfortunate business all around and I'm _truly_ sorry for that. But that was a side effect, I think. The pillaging, the backstabbing, and the deaths of all my puppies were all a result of everything I've given up for Blade's treasure. And I've... I've lost _so_ _much _for absolutely nothing."

And it's true, she thinks bitterly. Through the years, she's lost so much of herself trying to find Blade's treasure, that last bit of glory in Pandora, and for what? To a few common Vault Hunters in under four hours. Nothing will give her back all those years. Or her limbs. Or her once friends. That's not karma. That was sacrifice. Payment. And one she'd pay again if given the chance. Well, not her remaining limbs, of course. Then that'd just be ridiculous because what kind of pirate has _two_ peg legs and hooks? The ridiculous kind, that's what.

Briefly, she thinks of Sandman and wonders if things would've been different between them if she hadn't tried to kill him long ago. Or maybe it wouldn't and she'd still be here now. Pirates at last. "They stole that from me. And I think you more than anyone would know how it's like to be left alone and with nothing."

"What exactly do you want, Scarlett?" He says after another short pause. This time, his voice cracks with something like irritation and Scarlett quickly decides to give up this angle. He has a gun and that three-inch gap is enough to shoot through.

"I want the Vault Hunters," Scarlett says frankly. "And I _know_ you know where they've gone. I can't repay you _now_ for giving up your mates, but I can give you my word that I'll not kill you in the future. Call it an I.O.U if you like."

"No, absolutely not. That is out of the question," (Shane, maybe?) says firmly and Scarlett guessed as much. Perhaps she _should_ have killed him before if he was going to be so uncooperative. "As much as I enjoy spending this _wonderful_ quality time with you, I have a very big gun and I suggest you leave before I'll be forced to shoot you. A lot."

"Fair enough, but one more thing," Scarlett gives in. She hoped things would've turned out differently but being unarmed and in suddenly such a vulnerable position had changed that. She had underestimated him and perhaps he's right. Maybe it _is_ karma. "Erm... _gah_ this is so embarrassing but I'm... ah..." she tugs at her hook for emphasis. "Stuck."

The shutter rises barely another inch and Scarlett passes her hook through. "Many thanks," she says cheerfully and risks a peek through the gap with her good eye. "You wouldn't happen to have some water on you by any chance? I'm _quite_ parched and –" And the barrel of a gun blocks her line of sight. Well, it was worth a try. "Right, I see you're fresh out."

"Goodbye, Scarlett," the shutter closes with a bang and she would have been more indignant about his rudeness if she hadn't of course pillaged his town more times than she could count. Karma and all that.

"I'll be back," she promises. And she will, he's the only lead she has after all. "And when I do, we'll see if I can't convince you to be a tad more helpful."

And without another word, she makes her way back to her idling sandskiff. She lost years of work in a single day, but she can start from scratch if she must. All she needs is the prod in the right direction and this Shade character has exactly what she needs.

"Ah, yes, that's it! Shade!" Scarlett announces with a slap to the steering wheel. That was sure to drive her mad all day.

* * *

The second time she visits, two days have passed and there's still enough time for the Vault Hunters trail to be fresh. She's been busy since she's last seen him. Busier than she's been in years and she's only manged to round-up a mere skeleton of a crew to help man her ship, but it will suffice for now. These men aren't as loyal as her last bunch, but that can be earned with time and plenty of action. They'll have more than they can handle soon enough.

This time, she surprisingly doesn't find him in his shack, but on the beach sitting under an umbrella with someone. Or rather, a corpse, she suspects by the smell. Squinting against the sunlight, she makes out a board between them, chess perhaps. What a strange little man. She readies her pistol and without any further hesitation, she closes the distance between them while he's still unsuspecting and presses the cool steel at the nape of his neck.

"Games up, mate," she says as he tenses and slowly holds up his hands. "I think we both know why I'm here, yes?"

"Oh, w-what a surprise!" Shade sputters and Scarlett slips her hook around his throat, forcing him to stand. He laughs feebly and sways on his feet for a moment before she turns him around. "If I'd have known you were coming, I would have broken out the Chinese checkers."

The man was a pitiful sight, Scarlett decides with one look at him. She's seen men like this before out here in the wastes. Gums exposed and skin painfully cracked. She wonders how he's managed to survive on so little for so long. Carefully rationing a few sips a day if he's feeling particularly luxurious? Coconut milk? _Piss_? All likely. She entertains the idle idea of him killing the last of the survivors himself to ensure his own life until she decides that no, she's seen enough killers too and Shade was not one of them.

"You poor thing," she tuts and runs the dull edge of her hook up his cheek leaving a fine pink line against his skin. His sunglasses slip down to the bridge of his nose and Scarlett can't help but giggle at the sight of his brows. "_And _you're a ginger? How in all the holy hells have you not burned to a crisp and died out here?"

Shade licks his dry lips and grins wider still. "What can I say? Too weird to live, too rare to die."

"We'll see about that," Scarlett smiles back and gives him a rough shove towards the docks where her ship waits. "Say good goodbye to your mate, if you play your cards right, you might finish your game by tea time."

"I'll be back, Frank," he assures the heedless corpse on the ground. "No, no. Don't get up, I can handle it. Let everyone know I've... I'm going out for a walk."

"Yes, a walk," Scarlett decides to humor him and address the corpse. "He'll be back, Fred. _No promises though_." She whispers the last bit conspiratorially.

"It's Frank," he tosses past his shoulder as she nudges him forward with her gun.

Scarlett shrugs indifferently. "Fred. Frank. Whatever."

* * *

An hour later, deep in the brig of her ship, Scarlett is nearly sure he's going to talk. Men like him usually do. She's going to find her treasure. She has to. It's the only thing she has left to hold on to and she must have _something_ to keep her going when nothing else will.

"Where was I? Oh! Yes, so, just imagine the look on my face when I finally walked back on board to find out those thieving Vault Hunters had played shuffleboard on my deck while I was gone. With _grenades,_" she admits much to Shade's amusement who probably chuckles more than he should given his situation, but Scarlett lets it slide and laughs right along with him. "I swear it had to have been the stumpy loud chick... wuss'er name...wait! Gaige? Yes – _her_. I never liked her from the start."

A cool pitcher of water sits between them on the scarred tabletop along with a few discarded orange rinds and she thinks he looks a bit better now that he's had a solid drink in him. His mouth not as tight, his skin not as drawn. He's nice and comfortable now and while pain and hardship can sometimes make a man talk, Scarlett never liked those tactics much because most everything on Pandora is full of pain and hardship and that breeds hard people. Better to be friendly and welcoming than to be harsh and cruel. At least… until someone stops being useful. And Shade is very useful at the moment. She delicately peels the rind back on a second orange until she feels the curious sensation of being stared at. Sparring him a quick glance, nothing but the glare of the unflattering light overhead reflects back. Gah, but she can't stand how some people prefer to wear sunglasses indoors. It's just as cheesy as the rest of his get up.

"So..." he says and takes a slow sip from his cup, no longer the thirsty swallows as before but simply enjoying it while he can, she thinks. And he should, he might not get another drink after today. "I take it you're going to start torturing me soon, yes?"

"'_Torture_?'" She echoes back and has to stifle a laugh. "Heavens no! I don't torture people – I _kill_ them! All the begging and crying and screaming '_please no_!' gets very tedious after a while. And the _mess_!" Scarlett clicks her tongue with a roll of her eye. "Very nasty. No, I don't do torture."

"Well if you're not going to tickle me with that very, very scary hook... what am I _really_ doing here?" Shade leans forward in his seat, drumming his fingers against the cup as if impatient or simply nervous. "I don't know where the Vault Hunters are and –"

"Oh, but I think you _do_," Scarlett says, all good humor gone now that they're talking business. "The last man who told me he wouldn't help me or tell me what I wanted to hear, I shot between the eyes because I believed him. Now, if you tell me _you_ don't know anything… I'll believe you too. So, are you going to die today, or are you going to help me and go on your merry way?"

Scarlett lets this sink in and wishes she can see what he's thinking, but the glasses are doing a good job of hiding it. She's bluffing though, she couldn't kill him, not if he truly knows something. She needs a lead. A heading. A whisper, something he heard in passing – just _anything_ that will show her where to go! Oh sure, she _can_ poke around and try to find others that are affiliated with the Vault Hunters and find out their whereabouts, but that could take _weeks_ and she doesn't have that kind of time. This sad little man is the only thing that can help her now and she's been waiting far too long to get her hands on the treasure to afford any more delays.

Shade folds his hands on the table and after a few moments, clears his throat. "I am afraid I _really_ do not kno–" And in one swift movement, Scarlet reaches the short distance between them and slams his face down on the table; her pistol pressing against his temple. "No! No, no, no, wait! Hear me out!"

"Sorry, what was that? I could have sworn you wouldn't be able to help me," she bites out as pleasantly as she can and keeps him from struggling with her hook. Apparently, he thinks he's got the upper hand because he has what she wants. Sometimes she wonders why she tries to be civil at all if this is the thanks she gets.

"Yes! Wait – no! Just listen." The tabletop fogs up with his breath; glasses askew and hat knocked off. He hesitantly grasps the hook around his neck for more breathing room. "I do not know where they are... but I _think_ I know where they could be _going_. Does that help, friend? Friendly, friend," he laughs weakly. "Please don't kill me."

"Oh, so we're _friends_ now, are we?" She lifts her hook away with a grateful smile and goes so far as to dust off his hat and place it back on his head. "Lovely! By all means, let's gossip!"

Shade slumps back in his seat, his hand gingerly testing the pinkish-red ring around his neck and grins. "Yes. Friend," he takes a moment to adjust his glasses. "After the Vault Hunters came back from the Lair of the Leviathan, their hands full of – _your _loot – they spoke to a woman over the ECHO about the existence of a newly discovered Vault –"

"_Another_?" Scarlett cuts him off with a snort. "Honestly, how many bleeding Vaults are there on this planet? So sorry, carry on."

"That's just it, I do not know where," he wrings out his hands before stilling them. "A man cut through the frequency, shouting on about a crater and… that is all I know before they left. You find that Vault, you find the Hunters."

Scarlett takes a long moment to consider his words. Vague as they are, she trusts him. The way she sees it, a man as desperate as he is, is bound to be honest. Besides, a quick search of the ECHOnet can confirm this story. A new Vault wouldn't be hard to find since word travels fast on Pandora of such things and someone's bound to know exactly where it is. She's finally got something to work with.

"This helps, yes?" He prompts a bit too eagerly, clearly ill at ease by her long silence, and she almost smiles.

"We'll see," Scarlet says as she stands, the chair lightly scraping against the floor. She impatiently waves her gun at him to do the same. "C'mon, up you get."

He finishes the last of his drink and follows her out the door and up some staircases until they reach the sandskiff bay. All the while, she entertains the idle thought of killing him then and there and kicking his body off her ship… but decides against it. He was useful now, he could be useful again. In the end, that's what kept Herbert alive for so long. She'll get rid of him just as easily when she no longer needs him.

"You're letting me go?" Shade says at last when she pauses to digistruct a sandskiff. It seemed he was thinking along the same lines as she.

"Surprised? I said I would," Scarlett lies, she can still do so. "Go on now, before I change my mind. I've had a lovely time but I must be off. Got lots of pirate-y things to do and all that."

Shade takes in the cove where she's made her base and frowns. "You're leaving me _here_? This is sandworm country!"

"This is an _airship_, not a taxi," she shrugs. "I can either shoot you off my ship, or you can chance it out there. Goodbye, Shade. I wish you the_ best _of luck."

And with that, Scarlett slides the door shut, leaving him alone, unarmed and miles away from his cozy shack back in Oasis. And now... she's once again on the right track. She'll have her treasure in no time.

* * *

For the first few days, Scarlett was hopeful. That once stolen fever back in her veins again with the wind in her hair and a direction to guide her. After the first week or so, she started to worry. At a month, she was desperate.

In all that time, she had traveled to a wasteland called the Baddass Crater of Badassitude, a truly uninspiring name, and learned of the arena some pumped up beast of a man had staged for the chance to open the Vault. By the time she had arrived, it had been opened and the Vault Hunters gone. Poking around and questioning the locals at a place called Pyro Pete's Bar, a shabby little dump with a disgusting lack of toilets, she heard they traveled abroad to a continent called Aegrus not far off the east coast. Again another heading, and again nothing when she arrived. Nothing but spear shaking natives and constant gray skies. It was rather dreary mucking about in knee-high swampland. And then… the trail went cold once more. What an utter waste of time.

Well, not a complete waste. They _did_ plunder and pillage and leave behind a path of destruction everywhere they went – pirates after all. Supplies ran short, blood lust ran high, and the men were uneasy enough as it were with Scarlett's less than cheerful demeanor. But it all felt pointless to her, like an annoyance to get quickly out of the way and she took no real pleasure from it. At length, she stopped looking for the treasure and instead started plotting her revenge since she grew to accept the fact she'd never get it back. Likely sold off on the very first day they laid hands on it. It was her heartbeat. Her life support. And now it's gone. It was wishful thinking on her part to believe otherwise.

And so, it's come to no surprise that she's found herself back at the beginning, walking through the empty plaza of Oasis once more. It's cooler now, the stars just creeping out over the horizon. After going so long with nothing but the oppressive cloudy skies over Aegrus, she's glad to be back. This time, Shade see's her coming a mile away and this time, he doesn't close the shutter down as she strolls up to the counter. He looks to be doing alright, more or less how she's last seen him anyway and oddly enough, a part of her is truly pleased he's still alive.

"Welcome back," he says and arches a deck of cards between his fingers, reading up for what she assumes is a game of Solitaire. Instead of biting down on his usual bottle rocket, a limp and slightly bent cigarette smokes gently. "You were missed."

Scarlett highly doubts this. "Please don't make this weird," she sighs and leans against the counter. "Those will kill you, y'know."

"Something tells me it won't now that you're back," he chuckles and shakes out a beaten up pack from a breast pocket to offer her one. Surprised he'd offer at all, she accepts despite never actually liking the habit. He leans closer and in the sharp spark of a flame, she supposes it _has_ gotten weird because there's something awfully intimate about having someone lighting up a cigarette for her. "So, how goes the hunt for the late Captain Blade's treasure?"

"Somewhere between 'bugger' and 'all'," Scarlett admits, and strangely at ease about it too. The sting is still there, but it's worn down to a dull ache by now. "I've spent nearly a decade looking for it and it's gone. The legendary treasure of the sands, lost for a quick buck to the dozens of vending machines all around Pandora."

"It does kind of cheapen the whole thing," he agrees and short bark of laughter escapes him until he apparently thought better of it and sobered immediately. "My _deepest_ condolences, friend."

Scarlett highly doubts this too and thinks sarcasm doesn't suit him. "Go on, s'alright to laugh. Was a half arsed plan to begin with. Spent most of the time one step behind them and the rest wondering where they've gone. It was like trying to find a midget in a sea of bruisers, very confusing. And how are our mutual friends these days? You've heard from them lately?"

"I wouldn't know," he pauses for a slow drag and lays down the first row of cards. "I haven't seen them since you left."

"I don't have to threaten your life again, do I?" She says casually. "Because I'd like to think we're past that stage in our relationship and you already assume that I will. It'll save me _loads_ of time and I've already made some plans for this evening."

"No, no," he chuckles nervously. "They actually turned out to be very flakey and even accused me of making up reasons for them to come over and hang out with me. Which was _true_, but… screw those guys."

Scarlett watches the smoke twist and cling to his glasses and considers this. Shade seems sincerely put out by the Vault Hunters brush off and once again, she found herself believing him. After all was said and done, what more would the thieves do here in Oasis? Go on holiday? The treasure is gone and they have no reason to return or keep in contact with him. Shame really. She was hoping he'd have another lead for her. Just anything to go on to help plan her revenge but he's just at a loss as she is. If he's no longer chummy with the Vault Hunters, it seems that Shade has finally outlived his usefulness just like Herbert. All death threats aside though… Scarlett wasn't exactly thrilled by the idea for once. It's was a nice change seeing a familiar face that hasn't betrayed her in some way. Or at least, not yet.

_Unless_…

"How do you feel about joining my crew?" Scarlett says quickly before she could change her mind. "I can promise you the life of adventure, a small cut of the booty, and alternating Saturdays off. Before you make your decision however, my number one rule for anyone who joins me is that you join for _life_. That and… no hats. I'm the only one with the hat." She adds quickly. She'd rather not spend every day looking at that ugly thing if she can help it.

"Me? A sand pirate?" Shade's brows disappear up into said hat and a decent amount of ash falls from his lips and on his shirt. "As _honored_ as I am at your most gracious offer, I am not sand pirate material. You can however ask my friend Jocko. He has always wished to be a sand pirate you see and even has all the accessor–"

"I'm not asking one of your rotting puppets, I'm asking _you_," she cuts over him as she puts out her mostly ignored cigarette, her patience wearing thin. "You don't have to do any pirating since I'm in need of a new cook and I think I could put you to use there. If you know how to boil water and don't question where most of the meat comes from, you're perfect for it."

Shade seems unconvinced. "What happened to your last cook?"

"Oh, Mercer?" Scarlett rolls her eye, irritated now that she's reminded of the whole thing. "He took a fancy to a native girl over in Aegrus and ran off with her. He's probably trying on loincloths as we speak. I think I'll give him a few weeks of bliss to lull him into a false sense of security before having him killed or something like that. He'll die for sure though so don't worry, the position is totally open."

For a long moment Shade says nothing and she thinks he hasn't even noticed his cigarette has all but burned down to the filter. "I don't happen to have a choice, do I?"

Scarlett wants to say no like she's done so many times before. She'll pull out her gun and give him an ultimatum, the only kind of loyalty she knows how to make. He'll accept it, she _knows_ he will… well … she _thinks_ he might. But she leaves her gun in her holster this time. She doesn't want to risk it because he's too rare to die. She could get used to having someone around that isn't out to get her. It makes for a nice change of pace and he's not bad company once she got past his grating voice.

"Yes you do," she sighs rather reluctantly. "You can join me, or keep playing Solitaire." Scarlett bites her lip momentarily, debating. "There's always the chance I _might_ kill her later either way, but I'm feeling quite positive about this at the moment. What d'you say, do I have a cook?"

Shade puts out the fag end of his cigarette on the counter and grins in that wild way she's grown to like. "You may count me in, Captain."

"Wonderful," she says, and she means it. "Let's get going, yeah? I'm starving."

He pulls down the shutter like she's seen him do so many times before, but for the first time, the light goes out on the hot pink neon sign. She'll miss it, she thinks. Perhaps she'll swing by again later in the week to carefully take it down and decorate her new cook's kitchen. Somehow, it feels off not seeing him under it. A door opens and shuts on the side of the shack and Shade appears and he apparently didn't feel the need to pack a thing. _Except..._

Scarlett regards him coolly. "Your hat."

"I am keeping the hat."

"Fine, you're the exception," she lies, she's totally going to burn the thing the first chance she gets. Pirate at last.

* * *

**A/N:** Got a lot of games coming out that I'm itchy to play. Not to mention the news of the upcoming dlc/six character class that's been getting me all excited. Any speculation you guys would like to share? I'd love to hear everyone's guesses. Anyway, not sure when I'll update again. Still working on the Maya/Lilith femslash. Don't be surprised if things change up though. Still feel really bad for going against what I said in the last chapter so from now on, I'll never promise anything unless I've already gotten halfway through it. For those you made it back, thanks for reading!


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